It Could Be Worse
by Reinbeauchaser
Summary: What's the worst thing that could happen to the TMNT's? Read and find out. No character death, despite the rumors. FINISHED! ALERT Different ending to the chapter 6.
1. Leo Through the Looking Glass

**It Could Be Worse**

by Reinbeauchaser

_Disclaimer – No, I don't own them, so stop assuming I do. I just like to toss them into a few of my stories, is all. Other than that, read and review._

_I do try to write original stories, but now and then, I find myself attracted to an idea that someone else started. I don't know if this fic is one of them, but in case it is, please accept my apologies if I seem to be plagiarizing. _

_Oh, and this first chapter is not based on Alice and Wonderland. It is far more surreal than that. Bwahaha!_

**Chapter One – Leo Through the Looking Glass**

**……...**

Leo stared at the illuminated face of his alarm clock.

It was two a.m., thirty minutes later than it was the last time he had checked.

Groaning, he reached up and rubbed his tired eyes in frustration, muttering, "That's the last time I get talked into pizza and soda so late in the evening." Breathing out a deep sigh, he added, "No, wait, that's the last time I let _Mike_ order pizza and soda late in the evening. Who in their right mind puts pickles on their pizza anyway?" He then shook his head and rolled over once more, hoping that maybe his left side might provide a better sleeping position. "Why'd he'd even think pickles would taste good is beyond me. I must have been half out of my mind to even have a slice."

After twenty more minutes of tossing and turning, it was becoming painfully obvious to Leo that lying in bed and _thinking_ about trying to sleep was only making him more awake. Finally, he sat up and sighed, again, "Maybe a work-out for a half hour or so might help." The more he thought about it, the better the idea sounded, "Yeah, maybe if I get tired out, I might be able to relax enough to fall asleep." His stomach gurgled about then, offering a bit of protest over the meal from earlier, causing him to lament, "That is if nothing else distracts me."

As he slipped off the mattress and stood up, Leo switched on the table lamp and reached over to grab his elbow and kneepads from off the nearby dresser. Quickly slipping them on, he looked over and saw his blue mask lying next to where the pads had been. As he reached for it, he stopped and decided otherwise, remarking with a shrug, "It's not like I need the mask to work out or anything."

Then, quietly, he eased out of his room, shuffling silently through the concrete corridor of the lair and towards the dojo. Along the way, he yawed big and then stretched his arms over his head, flexing his muscles in order to loosen them. Clearly, he was tired, but the pizza and the caffeine in the soda were doing a fine job of keeping him very much awake.

As he came closer to the training area, however, he could hear someone working out in the room. The huffing and puffing, combined with a few grunts, said as much to him. He smiled, then, and gently shook his head in empathy.

"Hmm…maybe Raph couldn't sleep either. Wouldn't be surprised if that pizza's affected him the same way it did me!" Leo brightened, looking forward to sparing with his assertive brother and quite confident that their combined workout would facilitate tiring them both enough so that they would finally be able to sleep.

However, the moment Leo stepped into the dojo he knew almost immediately that, whomever it was working out, it was not Raphael.

With only a small, lit candle nearby that provided a scant offering of light, the shadows were deep and concealing. Yet, they were not deep enough to hide the man who now performed in the center of the room and who currently had his back towards Leo. It was frighteningly obvious to the turtle that this man had compromised the lair's security measures.

"HEY! WHO are you and what are you doing here?" Leo demanded loudly, taking a defensive posture. He crouched low, now, with his legs in a stance, ready to move in any direction if needed. His arms were up level with his shoulders, his left hand out in front of him, palm facing his opponent, while he cocked the right arm back as if ready to strike. Where he had neatly housed his swords far against the wall alongside the other weapons, Leo knew they were too far away for him to get to them in time. He would have to rely on his karate and ninjitsu skills to protect himself – and the lair.

However, despite Leo's commanding verbal query, the man continued working through the kata he was now executing. He acted as if he hadn't heard the young ninja's question at all, but instead he swiftly whipped his arms and legs around, continuing to keep his back to Leo. His rhythm was flawless, with each movement crisp, sharp, and masterful. If not for the fact that this stranger had blatantly violated the lair, Leonardo would have been impressed.

As the man moved in and out of his routine and through the candle's small, bright bit of light, Leo noticed perspiration glistening along the human's body. It was obvious he had been in the dojo for quite a while all ready. With the stranger's black ebony hair tied behind him in a slick short ponytail, it eluded that, if left unfettered, it would have probably hung down along his shoulders. Additionally, his body was well muscled and toned to rock hard conditioning, another obvious testament that the man, this interloper, was well acquainted with martial arts.

Then, as if in answer to Leo's forceful query, the man finished his kata by snapping around with an almost terrifyingly wicked flying kick. He ended his 'performance' by gracefully dropping to the floor on one knee, while the other leg stretched out behind him, as if in preparation to run. With his hands resting flat against the surface of the concrete floor beneath him, he bowed his head quickly, further hiding his identity. His breathing, although deep and extended, sounded even and well paced, proving the man's physical fitness.

"So good of you to join me, Leonardo!" the man said, his oddly familiar baritone voice suddenly piquing Leo's curiosity even more. It softly echoed against the hardened walls of the dojo and reverberated around the room until it finally rested again with the one nearly prostrate before the turtle.

"What – did you say?" Leo exclaimed in halting surprise, a slow realization beginning to permeate his sleep-deprived brain. His eyes widened slowly as his mind frantically tried to recall from where he had heard the voice before.

"So glad…" the man lifted his head, revealing his face full on and causing Leo to gasp, "…that you could join me." The interloper smiled broadly, his white teeth glinting in the light of the waxy luminary.

"SAKI?" Leo seethed out as he backed up, now recognizing the man and clearly shocked that his old nemesis was currently and without warning in his home.

As if amused by the turtle's surprise, Saki chuckled, "Why, yes, of course. Who did you expect?"

"Expect, what are you talking about?" Leo declared hotly. "I – I expected Raphael or one of my other brothers, certainly not YOU! How in SHELL did you get in here, anyway?" He quickly looked back over to where his precious swords were, wishing he had kept to the habit of keeping them with him in his room, instead of storing them neatly in the dojo. _"Stupid, so stupid; I should always have them with me!"_ he berated himself angrily. He glared back at his opponent again and swallowed. If Saki wanted to, he could easily make it to the weapons and have at least one sword at the ready before Leo caught up with him.

Rising to a stand and rounding his shoulders a bit to further release himself from his routine, Saki took two steps to his left, leaned down, and swiped up a towel resting nearby on the floor. He noticed Leo flinch ever so slightly, though, causing the man to furrow his brow just a little, as if confused. Then, as he straightened back up and as he wiped the sweat off his face, he asked, "Raphael? Why would you expect Raphael to be in here, Leonardo?"

Realizing he wouldn't have time to fetch his katana, Leo tried to stall. Maybe, his outburst had roused his other brothers, maybe even Master Splinter. If any of them had been here for back up, Leo knew they would distract Saki enough to where he could then retrieve his swords and finish his rival for good.

Leo spat out angrily, thoroughly offended that this terrible enemy of his had invaded his clan's territory, "Raphael lives here, idiot, and you don't. Why are you here? For that matter, how did you even find us?"

Leo glared venomously at the man, watching him with growing apprehension. As Saki casually wiped his upper torso down with the towel, he looked back in amusement at the turtle. A small, knowing smile gradually began to spread across Saki's face, with Leonardo's breathing becoming short ragged gasps. A subtle panic began to blossom in the pit of the turtle's stomach as he thought about an even graver scenario. A sudden and sickening realization came to him that this was merely a distraction in and of itself. The idea that Foot soldiers were possibly now disabling the rest of the family in their sleep teased menacingly at the edge of Leo's mind. Maybe Saki wasn't expecting him to be up at all, and this confrontation was the only way of keeping the turtle preoccupied.

"Leonardo, you truly are not a funny person; that's about the worse joke I've heard in a very long time," the man chuckled as he twirled his now damp towel into a thick rope, "But then, humor never was one of your strong suits." Saki then whipped the towel around the back of his neck, allowing the length of it to wrap around the top part of his shoulders and letting it hang down his chest. Holding on to both ends of the towel to keep it in place and as he attempted to walk around Leo to exit the dojo, he offered as he smiled wide, "However, if you're too tired to spar, then I can wait until morning."

Then, just as Saki came alongside Leonardo to head out into the hallway, without warning the turtle expertly swept the man's legs out from under him. The movement caused Saki to spiral up and then down towards the floor. However, just before the man would have crashed hard to the concrete ground, he deftly broke his own fall. Grabbing the floor with his left hand, he effortlessly pushed back and away from Leonardo, almost as if they had rehearsed the sudden movements.

"Hey, what was that for?" Saki barked, standing tall and straight once more. He whipped the towel off his shoulders and balled it up in his hands in mild annoyance.

"I asked you a _question_, SAKI. WHY are you here?" Leo demanded more earnestly.

Snickering as if trying to act amused, yet not the least bit entertained, the man scoffed as he cocked his head, "What are you talking about, Leo? After your brother, Raphael, killed Splinter and after I brought him to justice for you by convincing him to commit seppuku, once you and I made peace, I came to live here." He then began to laugh, as if the entire inquiry had been nothing but an amusing joke, "Good God, boy, where _have_ you been?"

With his breathing coming in ragged gasps, now, Leo's head began to swim in unsettling vertigo. He felt ready to topple over from the sheer horror of what he had just heard. Then, the partially digested pizza in his stomach protested even more. Yet, as he listened to Saki laugh, Leo felt absolute terror rising up from the very pit of his stomach, seeming to strangle around his throat, as the man's words permeated his consciousness.

However, the only thing that Leo could do next, the only thing he seemed to be capable of, was to sound out a gut-wrenching and heart-rending scream.

**_A/N_**_ – This is for all readers who have found themselves hooked into any of my stories that are currently unfinished. With unsettling frequency, I am finding the 'well of creativity' dry as a bone around my PC. Consequently, I am taking an unofficial hiatus from working on any of them. I'm hoping that once my daughter is back in college (September) and I have the house to myself (peace and uninterrupted quiet until 6-6:30 p.m.), I'll get back on track once again. For the moment, family comes first. _

_Personally, I think I need new material that does not incorporate OC's. Keeping track of their personality profiles and quirks have become daunting, to say the least. Writing a story with just our green guys in a half-shell seems so much simpler by comparison. _

_This particular fic was supposed to be a one-shot, but the way it ends, it rather leaves you pondering what's up, which is probably what Leo is wondering, too. There will be four more chapters and then I'll either tag it with an epilogue or leave it at that. _

_Anyway, maybe between now and September, some inspiration will take route to help add to my other stories. Thanks a bunch for your understanding and for faithfully reading anything that I write. _

_Be blessed._


	2. Has the World Gone Crazy?

**_DISCLAIMER_**_: Although I did not start out to parody or even vaguely imply other stories on Fan Fiction, considering this particular chapter's topic, I feel inclined to dedicate it to Fallen Hikari and her Price of Pepperoni. This one's for you, gal, and I'm certain you will know why as you read along:0) Anyway, as before, I don't own them, I just like to torment and torture them. As I'm thinking about it, I guess Chapter One, **Leo Through the Looking Glass**, might be a casual nod to Ramica, too, where she's just finished up with The Enemy. Yeah, what could be worse, eh? LOL_

**Chapter 2 – Has the World Gone Crazy?**

Mike had to admit, pickles on pizza was not a good thing, no, not at all. He tossed around on his bed as if he had ants in his pants; that is if he wore pants, and he just couldn't seem to get comfortable. He checked his alarm clock again, grabbing it up to get a better look at the time. Disappointed, he found that only ten minutes had gone by since he had checked it last, and that seemed to have been hours ago.

But, ten minutes of tossing and turning was, still, ten minutes of not sleeping.

"Gad, I'm tired. I just wish my tummy would settle down," he moaned. "Next time I order pizza, I'm nixing the extra toppings. Maybe combining pickles with sauerkraut wasn't such a good idea?"

He smiled though, remembering the looks of disgust on his brothers' and sensei's faces when he brought home their late-night meal. Yet, they had all shared some of the concoction, with Donnie commenting about the interesting sensations of flavors that danced along his tongue.

Now, however, those same sensations seemed to be _dancing_ further south in Mike's stomach.

"I wonder if anyone else is having the same problem?" he pondered with a contracted groan.

Finally, unable to stay in bed any longer, Mike decided that maybe an hour's worth of television would lull him into dreamland.

Or, maybe even a round of his favorite first-shooter video game.

Either way, Mike had had enough of trying to sleep when his body and mind refused to cooperate.

Aware that he might very well be the only member of his family having trouble sleeping, Mike quietly slipped out of his bedroom and headed for the living area. As he came into the room, he eased himself onto the well-worn couch, grabbed up the remote from off the cushion, and – propping his legs up onto the coffee table in front of him - clicked on the television.

"Think I'll channel surf first and, if I don't find anything interesting, then _Full Force X_ 'n me will have a go-round." He leaned back to relax and pointed the controller at the T.V., beginning his 'tour' of the world of visual entertainment.

He knew it was going to take some time to flip through all of the channels, where Donnie had spliced into a cable company a few years ago. Mike was confident that with over six hundred stations to consider, he would be asleep in no time.

After about thirty minutes, he was getting frustrated. So far, he was still wide-awake with nothing interesting to watch on television. However, as he reached the halfway point in the list of channels, a news story caught his attention. He let the program play out, watching the news reporter with growing concern. He had missed the opening line, but what little he had heard initially, his interest piqued ten-fold from then on. He watched as the casually dressed man, with microphone in hand, stood behind a huge crowd of people, with some in the crowd carrying banners and signs. Just beyond them was the gleaming white dome of the United States capitol in Washington DC, providing a regal backdrop with its nighttime lights illuminating the surrounding area like a beacon.

"…and, as lawmakers quickly consider the passage of the Pizza Ban Bill, protests have erupted outside congress as thousands of demonstrators expressed their dissatisfaction."

The newscast then showed clips from what appeared to be earlier in the day of a panoramic shot of the large, growing crowd of disgruntled citizens. Large signs criticizing the obviously very unpopular legislative movement bobbed and weaved within the sea of humans, with loud chants of "No More Delivery, No More Work" and "What's Beer Without Pizza?" reverberating throughout the throng of people.

Mike was transfixed, "How could they do this?" He was stunned almost speechless, but not entirely. He suddenly smiled, believing that he had landed on the MadTV channel. "Yeah, I bet this is just one of their parody shows." He giggled then, realizing more than before that was what he was watching – a well-played hoax.

Chuckling to himself, "Who would even lobby for such a bill anyway? It's just ridiculous."

Mike then went on to channel surf through a few more stations, chuckling every so often as he thought about the pizza ban, with ten more minutes going by before, once again, another news report caught his attention. There on the screen and sitting behind a maple-laminated desk with a photo backdrop of New York City, sat an attractive lady brunette, who then spoke dispassionately into the camera.

"This just in…it is now official. Due to its proven health hazard, beginning next week, on June 13th, 2005, there will be a ban on all pizza. Companies who have profited from this highly dangerous food item will be required to turn in their business license and close up shop. HAZMAT teams will collect all frozen variety pizza from every store in the nation, a process that may well take upwards to a month to complete. SWAT and other special agencies will join forces to expedite the eradication of this highly unhealthy and toxic food. All grocery stores and mini markets will be required to remove all pizza products from their shelves and refrigeration units by tomorrow morning. Beginning this evening, anyone found stockpiling this horrific substance beforehand or caught out in public with even a slice of pizza, will be fined upwards to five-thousand dollars and six months in jail. Already, Dominos and Pizza Hut stock is plummeting, with like reaction happening to the smaller restaurant chains and pizza brand companies. Word has reached us only moments ago that stockholders are in a state of panic as they try to sell off their shares, likening this nation-wide hysteria to the stock market crash of 1929. It is feared that a revenue loss reaching into hundreds of billions is likely to affect the country. From this reporter's view, it could mean total chaos until the pepperoni settles."

Mike just stared at the screen, now horrifyingly convinced that the Pizza Ban bill was not a hoax after all. Dumbstruck, he was unable to fathom how anyone could think, or _would_ think, that his favorite food in the _entire_ universe was unhealthy.

"Okay, dude, so it's a bit greasy – but aren't hamburgers greasy, too?"

Shaking his head and then with his eyes growing wide when he realized his dilemma, he jumped up from the couch and ran back to his room, "Gotta get me some pies before it's too late!"

However, as he began to think about the impending shortage of his favorite food and the crowds of protesters he saw on the news report, he grinned. A sudden idea came to mind. He could easily see himself conducting a very successful black market business of selling prohibition pizza to people who just could not live without it. It was obvious from what the television showed that the huge crowds hovering in front of the capital were in agreement with him, that banning pizza was not a good idea. He also believed that Donnie's foraging in the local junkyards just might turn up a discarded freezer or two. Mike was quite confident that his genius brother would be able to fix them. Now chuckling contentedly under his breath in fortuitous anticipation, the orange-banded turtle's mood began to brighten considerably.

As he raced into his bedroom, Mike grabbed up his chucks, clipped them onto his belt, and then snagged his trench coat and hat. Once he had them on, he quickly headed back out. Sprinting through the living area, he wondered if maybe it would be wise to alert his family. Realizing they would only question his sanity and waste precious time that would be better spent acquiring his precious pizza, Mike decided that this mission was one he would have to do alone.

Quickly going into the kitchen, he opened a cabinet situated over the sink. Standing on tiptoes, he rustled through the various canned goods that were stored there, soon finding the large, five-pound coffee container in the back. As he pulled the can forward, a few of the stashed coins tinkered loudly along the inside of the can like a maraca, causing Mike to look nervously behind him. He waited, holding his breath. When he was convinced the sudden noise hadn't alerted the rest of his family, he smiled and took the can the rest of the way out of the cabinet and over to the small wooden table in the kitchen.

Peeling back the plastic lid, he looked inside the metallic receptacle. Along with the various coins, a large collection of one-dollar bills stared back at him. Several fives and a few, ten-dollar notes littered part of the stash, with an occasional twenty-dollar bill to sweeten the pot. Mike was certain that his brothers would be in total agreement with him, believing that procuring the forbidden pies had to be the best reason in the world to use their entire savings.

It was, after all, a matter of life and death – or pizza, as far as Michelangelo was concerned.

Filling his coat pockets, now, with every coin and bill, Mike quickly resealed the can and returned it to its hiding spot in the cabinet over the sink. Soon, he was fleeing out the front door of the lair and through the sewers towards his exit point.

Only a few minutes later, Mike found himself standing in front of his favorite all-night grocery store. He noticed that the lighting was dimmed down a bit in the aged shop, which would only make it easier to get around inside without too many people noticing him. As it was, his casual entrance into the store went almost unnoticed by the proprietor, yet see him she did. Looking up from her newspaper, the woman nodded his way with a slow bow of her head, with Mike giving back the same gesture. He then pulled at the front edge of his fedora as he brought the brim further down in front of his face. This simple act alone had a dual purpose, acknowledging the storeowner as well as hiding his face a bit more.

Fortunately, for Mike, he was somewhat of a familiar presence to the woman, where he did most of his shopping at her store, albeit usually much earlier than the current hour. His coat and wide-brimmed hat had become a regular occurrence to her. Therefore, it did not seem too much out of the ordinary and so, for the most part, she ignored him.

It also did not seem too unusual to see the place mostly deserted, except for himself and the shop owner. Considering it was nearly two in the morning, who else would be 'out and about', other than muggers and rapists. Mike smiled to himself, confident that he would not have _any_ competition for _any_ of the frozen pizzas.

Grabbing a cart, Mike sauntered down the aisles. He took his time as he whistled a tune and hoped against hope that this new law went unnoticed and unknown by the proprietor. After all, it had only been a little while since the television reporter had made the horrific announcement. Certainly, the law would be a bit more lenient in the beginning, to give enough time for the word to get around to everyone.

Mike decided, however, that to stockpile his cart with just frozen pizza might be a dead giveaway to his true intentions. After all, he was certain that such a legislative measure would not have been sudden. More than likely, it had been a nationally known fact for a while, considering the huge crowd the news program showed. How he and his brothers had missed reading or hearing about such an obvious social crisis was beyond him. Nevertheless, he was grateful he had seen the news and heard the announcement when he did.

Quickly, he began to add a few errant items to his cart. A loaf of bread, a box, or two of cereal, a few canned goods, and a gallon of milk found their way into the handcart, before Mike headed over to the frozen foods section of the store.

Like a kid on Christmas morning, Mike could only stare in wonder. To his delight, the refrigeration shelves were completely full, and – best of all worlds – every box of frozen pizza was marked down to a quarter of the price. Then, as if that wasn't good enough news, a small sign stuck to the inside of the glass door announced 'no limits'.

Mike couldn't help but giggle softly, not at all alarmed with such a reduced price in cost. Maybe the proprietor was indeed aware of the impending pizza ban after all and, wanting to move her merchandize as fast as possible, had decided that little gain was better than total loss. Mike had all he could do to keep from laughing gleefully aloud.

Truly, fate was smiling on him this night!

After a few minutes, the turtle filled the rest of his cart to the very top with every variety of pizza. From plain cheese, to super supreme, and, with as many brands as there were, he took as much as he could. With his cart now full of cheaply priced pizza, he was certain he would have enough money to pay for every item. If not, he would just nix the bread, the milk, the canned goods, and the boxes of cereal. What fortunes he would make in the days to come from the black market sale of his 'wheels of culinary delight' would more than make up for what he couldn't buy this evening – or morning, as it was.

As far as Mike was concerned, existing on just pizza alone had to be the best way to live, that was all there was to it.

Mike now walked towards the front of the store to pay for his groceries, pushing the nearly overflowing cart before him. While he did, he whistled a happy little tune, a tune that was snappier, livelier, and which expressed his current mood – complete elation!

As Mike approached the register, the woman behind the counter eyed the full-to-the-brim grocery cart. One of her eyebrows rose in suspicion and a small quirk edged one corner of her mouth. She deftly lowered her right hand, slipping it below the counter's edge and out of sight of her customer, with an almost indiscernible buzz whispering soon afterwards.

"So," she asked evenly, "stocking up on pizza, are we?"

Lowering his head a bit more to ensure his cover, Mike replied, "Yep, having a bit of a – party – at home later on tomorrow and I thought I'd – just – get my shopping out of the way." He smiled inwardly, quite proud of his explanation.

"I see. Well, then…" the woman remarked, "guess there's only one thing left to do."

Suddenly and without warning, a contingency of SWAT personnel converged on the store, with at least a dozen men armed with AK47 assault rifles and tazer tags. Before Mike could whip out his chucks, before he could react at all, between the front and back doors of the grocery store the men swiftly piled inside and surrounded him. The tazer tag found him first, its small metal teeth latching onto his legs and rendering the poor turtle to the floor in a helpless spastic heap. Once he was inert, the SWAT team deactivated the tazer, with some of the men grabbing his legs while several more secured his arms.

Mike panicked. Bravely, he tried to kick out and to twist from their grasps, but to no avail. Despite his training, despite his strength, there were just too many of them.

With their metallic wrist and ankle binds, they successfully hobbled him with hardly any trouble at all. Mike soon found himself completely helpless.

As he looked up at the proprietor, the brim of his hat still concealing most of his face, she shrugged as she explained her actions, "Sorry, mister, but they offered me a $5,000 reward for alerting them to anyone buying pizza."

"But, but, the bill just passed tonight! How can they do this so quickly?" he whined pitifully.

"Tonight? Hey, where've you been, hiding under a rock?" the woman sneered, "This pizza ban is almost a week old!"

Then, as one of the men removed Mike's hat to get a better view of their 'catch of the day', everyone startled back in unexpected shock.

What else could possibly go wrong, Mike did not want to know. His capture because of the banned pizza was proof that the world had indeed gone crazy. Despite the fact that he was now exposed and no longer a secret, the only thing that mattered to him was that he would never again have any of his beloved favorite food.

Consequently and before anyone could scream or shout out or say anything in surprise, Mike cried out a long, mournful, "**_NOOOOOOO_**!"

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**_A/N._**_ Two down, three or four more to go. Gee, I wonder if Mike will get out of this one. Hmm…Thanks to all who read and reviewed._**_LUNAR-NINJA_****_THE REAL CHEESE MONKEY_****_PRETENDER FANATIC_****_CHIBI ROSE ANGEL, _****_SOMELLAMAFREAK_****_RAMICA_****_DIERDRE_****_PACPHYS_**


	3. I Say, Old Chap

**_DISCLAIMER – _**_Okay, first up, I don't own anything other than this story. I also want to dedicate this to any and all who have accents, myself notwithstanding. Californians don't have accents, just ask anyone who lives there! (Grins) I also want to apologize beforehand to anyone who 'owns' an accent akin to either Brooklyn, New York; the UK; or Australia. I won't say why, as it will give away this chapter, but suffice it to say, how I've 'written' this chapter is based on how I 'hear' things. Whoo hoo, Phonetics rule! _

_This is a shorter chapter than the others, too, if only because I was getting worn out from having to remember how things 'sound' to me and then trying to write it out so that it reads as I would hear it. In either event, have fun! Bwahahaha._

_Oh, and a bit of a nod to **Ninjalara. I**__n short, I used a Mother Goose Rhyme that she had used in her story, Genetic Prison, where it went so well with a particular part of this chapter. I did augmente it a bit, but basically, the verse is public domain, which means that one does not have to ask permission to use it, except for where one feels led to acknowledge, as in the case of Genetic Prison._

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**Chapter 3 – I Say, Old Chap, What Was It You Just Said?**

"So help me," muttered Raphael, "come morn'n, I'm kill'n Mikey." He flipped himself back onto his stomach again, his bed creaking and groaning as he did. He wished for 'all the world' that he had gone with his instincts and nixed the late-night pizza from the previous evening. "The pickles 'n sauerkraut was bad nuff, but then t'add gummy bears ta the mix, what was that idiot think'n anyways." Shaking his head, Raph snickered, "Yeah, right, as usual, Mikey wasn't."

Grimacing as another wave of nausea hit him, the turtle groaned again, "N'neither was I fer hav'n any of it. Stupid thing fer me t'do."

Unable to get comfortable or to ease the discord in his stomach no matter what position he tried, Raphael jerked himself upright to a sitting position. "I need somethin' ta distract me." Then, his attitude perked up a bit, "Hey, I think there's one more beeah in the fridge. Yeah, a nice cold frothy might do th'trick."

Feeling a bit better with the thought of a foamy draft of ale quenching his thirst, as well as possibly squelching any uprisings from his stomach, Raph gingerly eased himself off his bed and out of his room. Standing in the hallway, he listened to make sure that the rest of his family was still asleep and, hearing nothing of notable concern, he confidently swaggered through the corridor and into the living area. Crossing over to where the kitchen was, Raphael quickly reached the refrigerator, yanking the door opened with a flourish. There, all alone and way in back on the top shelf, was the last bottle of brew.

Smiling wide, Raphael grabbed up the hops and malt fermented drink, quickly popping the cap off with his thumb. Throwing his head back, he brought the now-opened bottle up to his mouth and pulled a swig of the chilled golden liquid, intending on taking all of it in one deep and sustained gulp.

However, as soon as the alcoholic beverage coursed over his teeth and tongue, Raph uncharacteristically spewed it out all over the floor at his feet.

"The SHELL?" he griped, "What's with th' taste?" He glared at the almost now-empty bottle, wrinkling his snout in disgust and quite confused how his favorite brand could taste so – awful. "Can beeah go bad?" he almost asked too loudly. Sniffing at the opened end of the glass receptacle, he quickly pulled the bottle away, wrinkling his snout even more, "Phew, I guess it can." Shaking his head, he poured what remained of the ale down the sink and then plopped the bottle into the trash. "Such a waste, though" he moaned pitifully.

Completely forgetting about the amount he had '_urped'_ all over the floor, Raph headed back out of the kitchen, with the intention of maybe taking in some television. However, the moment one foot slid through the beer-drenched floor, his feet went completely out from underneath him, sending the turtle unceremoniously crashing to the ground. It all happened so fast that he landed with a hard 'ker-wump', with his head cracking soundly against the concrete surface.

"Yow…man, oh man, that hurt," he exclaimed loudly as he lay there on the floor. "Oh, my aching skull; as if I needed one more achy anythin' t'night." He reached back and felt along the back of his head, quickly feeling a rising bump from where his cranium had kissed the concrete. "Gonna be a goose egg by mornin', tha's fer sure."

Scrambling back to stand once again, Raph went over to the counter. From under one of the upper cabinets, he pulled out a line of paper towels from its holder and then turned to stoop down to wipe up the puddle of beer from the floor. Once he was done and had the now wet towels properly dispensed into the trash, he resumed his exit from the kitchen.

Spying the television, Raph exclaimed half a loud as a strange change of inflections in his voice edged his words, "I wonda if waatch'n a bit of tha telly moight 'elp me ta…" His eyes widened a bit, "Telly, where in _shell_ did THAT woud come from?" His eyes widened even more, "Woud? What in bloddy shell is that? Woud? Woud, woud, woud, woud, woud?" Then, emphasizing the obviously missing consonant, "Why can't I say WORRRRD with the stupid, bloddy aar?" Then, Raph began a litany of words, "Oy say, what kind of broogue am I speaking now?" He paused, wrinkling his eye ridges a bit, "Bloddy 'ell, Oy've got an English accent! O'ah, maybe it's Austrawlian, I can't tell, becawse they all sound alike! How in bloddy 'ell'd that 'appen– oh fa crying out loud, I can't say 'ell, without '_bloddy__'_ 'ell and where'd the aach in 'ell go tu, anyway?" Raph started to panic. "Good God, I can't say any aaches!" As he thought about it, he realized yet another fact, "Bloddy 'ell, I can't even say any aar's'!"

Now, how could anyone take him seriously? His Brooklynesque talk made him sound tough and intimidating, but his new accent took the bite out of his words and his attitude. "Moikey's gonna have a field die with this one." Sitting down on the couch with his head in his hands as he leaned forward, Raph lamented, "I can't even say Moikey correctly. GAH…It's Miiikey!" as he emphasized the dastardly vowel in question. Raph then pounded against his head, "Get out of there you, – you..._bloddy_ English accent!"

Raph looked up and shook his head again, his new 'speak' stubbornly adhering to his vocal chords, "Mahn, tha' fall must've really banged me around a good one." However, a sudden thought caused him to chuckle, his body shaking as a giggle seemed to rise up from his toes. He began to laugh a bit as he said to no one in particular, "Oy kin jus' see Leonahdo's expression tomahrow when we spah, though." Giggling a bit more, Raph's chuckle deepened, "O'ah, how 'bout Donnie when I staut talkin' as if I've been to Hahvid."

Then, a sudden phrase came to mind, "Petah Pipah picked a peck of pickled peppehs, if Petah Pipah picked a peck of pickled peppehs, how many peppehas did Petah Pipah pick?" Now, Raph was rolling on the couch, thoroughly enjoying himself to no end, while completely losing it. With tears now streaming unabated down his face, he reasoned, "Well, ol chaup, I'm ce'tain c' moning, I'll be back to me ol' self. Right now, I wan' ta watch some telly."

Sitting back up and flipping the television on with the remote and keeping the volume down so as not to wake the rest of the family, Raph clicked through a few channels until he came to an on-going movie. He didn't recognize it at all, where it seemed that everyone in the cast was dressed up in nineteenth century period wear and spouting Queen's English rather than American slang. When it broke to a commercial, briefly announcing the title of the flick as it did, Raph saw an excuse to grab a quick snack.

Quickly going into the kitchen, he took up Splinter's teakettle and filled it with water from the tap, then settled it onto one of the stove's burners. He soon noticed Splinter's favorite breakfast bread lying off to one side towards the back part of the counter - Thomas' English Muffins – and smiled. Taking a muffin from the bag, he looked at it for a moment, as if uncertain what to do next. Then, finally figuring out what to do, he took a sharpened knife from one of the drawers, sliced the muffin in two, and plopped it into the toaster. Once he had pushed the start lever down, he peered back into the living room and was relieved to find that the commercial was still going.

After a moment, the muffins popped up, all nicely browned and crispy.

Raph then retrieved a small plate from the cabinet and carefully removed the now hot muffins from the toaster. Quickly dropping them onto the plate and blowing on his scorched fingertips to cool them, he wondered quietly, "Hmm…I wonda if Splintah 'as any lemon cud?"

Raph checked the refrigerator but found only a partially filled jar of strawberry jam. "This'll

'ave ta do, oy guess."

As he spread a thick layer of the preserves on his muffins, the teakettle began to whistle. Raph quickly turned off the burner and suddenly realized that he had not retrieved a mug for the tea, yet. "Ah, but oy know that Splintah has a fine bit of Chiner someweah." After a moment of searching through the cabinets, he found what he was looking for.

Holding the floral print saucer daintily between thumb and forefinger, with the cup balanced on top and right side up, Raph smiled, "What's a nice British tea without an English bone Chiner cup to sip from?"

He then rummaged through the cupboards again for another much-needed item, exclaiming almost in proclamation when he found it, "Ea'l Grey! Ah, yes, me lad, good ol' Ea'l is the best tea to 'ave when viewing such a fine show as - 'Pride and Prejudice'."

Plopping the teabag into his teacup and after pouring in the steaming water, Raph waited the required five minutes, which – as any Englishman knows – is the proper time for any proper cup of tea. While he waited, he whistled a little tune - God Save the Queen.

A few hours later, Raph sat morosely on the couch; a box of Kleenex on his lap with several used clumps of the tissue piled up along one side of him. He currently had one tissue propped squarely under his snout while muffled sniffles emanated from within. His eyes were red from – crying and his face stained with – tears, as he watched the ending of Pride and Prejudice. As the wedding took place and as all the actors with their happy faces beamed into the camera, Raph cried a bit more, uttering between hiccupy sobs, his British accent as thick as ever, "Oy'm - so – so 'appy for Miss Bennet. So 'appy for her and Mr. Darcy. Weddings are – so…" he bawled, "_'appy_!" Raph then blew into his bunched up Kleenex, snorting and sniffling some more before wiping his snout dry.

Then, almost as if he had just realized what he had been doing for the past several hours, Raph's eyes grew wider than they had all evening - or morning considering it was nearly five a.m. "Good God, Oy've just watched the sawppiest movie there is; what's wrong with me?"

"Yeah, bro, my question exactly!" piped out a horrifically familiar voice.

As Raph turned around and locked eyes with his youngest brother, who had the most anxious expression on his face, the facts suddenly struck him. Not only had Mikey overheard his older brother speak with a British accent, but he had also caught him red-handed watching, of all things, a movie about a girl, her sisters, their romances, their zany mother and kind father, and, lastly, a wedding.

Could it get any worse than this, Raph thought not. As it was, it only took a second for him to realize the truth of the matter. As the credits began rolling along on the television screen, Mikey had to know that Raph had watched Pride and Prejudice and that he had lost his beloved Brooklyn brogue. Yet, the red-banded turtle's reaction to all of this was atypical.

He screamed.

**_A/N_**_ – Well, I know I probably slipped from Queen's English to Cockney, with maybe a bit of Aussie in there and a trifle bit of Scottish. I'm apologize if I caused some of you to get facial ticks from trying to read it, too. It's hard to write out the brogue, believe me, especially when it's a stupid American doing it – and a Californian, no less – and without an accent! LOL. _

_Now, I have three down with at least two more, but not more than three, chapters left to write. _

_For those of you unable to decipher some of my phonically written words, here's a few of the less obvious ones – Lemon cudlemon curd; HahvidHarvard; O'ahOr; Ea'lEarl; dieday _

**_COMMENTS _**_– Thanks to all who read and reviewed! _**_CHIBI ROSE ANGEL_**_ – _**_LUNAR NINJA_**_ – _**_SOMELLAMAFREAK_**_ – _**_PRETENDER FANATIC_**_ – _**_LEONARDO MYSTIC_**_ – _**_RAMICA_**_ – _**_PACPHYS. Be blessed._**


	4. Prey

**_DISCLAIMER_**_ – Well, even though the TMNT's are not mine, at least I own the story. I also hope that I did not offend anyone from the UK or Australia with the previous chapter. I absolutely adore listening to anyone speak with a brogue of any kind and whenever I come across someone who has one, I just can't help myself in asking them "So, you don't sound like you're from around here," which prompts my asking them where they're from originally. Oh, to have the funds to run all over the world visiting different lands and people. I feel blessed just to have had the opportunity to see the Philippines last year! _

_As far as this chapter is concerned, I have to admit that I really like this chapter best, out of all of them. I rarely ever mention stuff like that, since I think it's kind of a faus pax for a writer to like anything they write. But, I had such fun writing this one, you just can't imagine. So many opportunities to 'paint' a picture of how I see 'things', that I kept adding more and more to the chapter. I'm still not satisfied with it and maybe, just maybe, this is where I need to focus my 'mainstream' novel idea, sans TMNT's, of course! Man, it just opens up an endless amount of possibilities. _

_Anyway, hope you like it as much as I do. If not, that's okay; I still do! LOL _

**Chapter 4 – Prey**

Donnie had finally fallen asleep. After hours of tossing and turning, his eyes just could not stay open any longer and it seemed his grumbling stomach had finally settled down. Unfortunately, he didn't stay that way for long. Once again, he found himself fighting the 'urge to purge' what was left of his dinner from the evening before, the battle of wills between his mind and his stomach waking him up once again. Although he loathed throwing up, he was beginning to think that it would be far better than toughing it out in his room the way he had been doing.

Despite his presently uncomfortable state, though, he was much too snug under his covers to venture out into the chill of the lair. Consequently, he hunkered further under his nice, warm blankets and focused on not throwing up.

"Mike, so help me, come morning if Raph doesn't kill you first, I most _certainly_ will," he vainly promised himself, quite certain that he was not alone in the 'upset tummy' department. "If not for the sauerkraut and pickles, or even those gummy bears, _cauliflower_ on pizza should be outlawed." He groaned as he held a comforting hand along his stomach, "And I had two slices of it; what was I thinking?"

Finally, after several more minutes of no reprieve from his nausea, he sighed in defeat. Half rising from his pillow with his left arm under him for support, Don reached over with his right handto switch on the table lamp by his bed. He grimaced from the sudden brightness, laying his head back down again as he rubbed at his eyes.

As he began to adjust to his now illuminated room, he considered doing what he knew he should do, but then Don looked over at his worktable with its many unfinished projects. He wondered if maybe tinkering with one of them might distract himself enough from his current misery, possibly allowing enough time to pass so that the ill feelings would, too. Sighing and realizing that unless he did something other than lying in bed, Don was certain that misery would hound him until morning – or until he visited the 'porcelain god' in the bathroom and made a partially-digested offering.

Reluctantly, he rose up out from his nice, warm bed, and greedily took the comforter with him. Wrapping it securely around his shoulders, Don next slipped his feet into his fuzzy purple slippers, reluctantly standing up and thenshuffling over to his chair.

As he sat down and pulled his bedspread up further around him, Don eyed his latest invention, "Now, where was I…" he mused thoughtfully.

After a while and as he worked with the object in his hand, tightening a bolt here, calibrating an adjustment there, the lights in his room suddenly winked out. Don sighed deeply and shook his head, realizing that he would not be tinkering after all.

"What now?" he groaned in frustration. Due to his ninjitsu training, Don was well adapted to working in complete darkness – as far as patrol and the arts were concerned. However, his inventions were another factor all together. He needed light, that's all there was to it.

Don carefully placed his gadget back onto the table and stood up out of his chair. As a precaution, he reached over next to his desk where he kept his bo-staff and, once he had his weapon in-hand, Don shrugged off his warm comforter. He shivered once from the sudden chill of the room, and then kicked off his slippers.

_"That's it; I've had it with drafty, cold sewers. I'm going to get heat into this place if I have to drill all the way down through the mantle of the earth," he grumbled irritably._

Cautiously, he stepped towards his closed bedroom door. He thought about strapping his leathers on, which would include his elbow and kneepads as well as the sheath for his bo-staff, but Don really didn't want to take the time. He just wanted to know what had caused the lights to go out.

Silently easing open his bedroom door, he noticed that even the hallway was pitch-black with darkness. Usually, there was a soft glow of light coming from the various kitchen and living room electronics and which acted well enough to illuminate the corridor by the bedrooms.

Usually, but, not now.

It was becoming increasingly obvious to Don that something had affected the electricity in their home.

"A black out?" Don queried to himself, "But, it's only March; it's still cold outside. There wouldn't be any reason for an overuse of power."

Puzzled, now, and just a little bit curious, he stepped out into the hallway and headed for the living room. As he walked, he listened intently, hearing a few snores and some groaning from the other bedrooms. A few of the groans were obvious testaments that, indeed, not everyone was enjoying the after affects from the pizza they had eaten earlier. Don was certain that, come morning, maybe even Leo might be willing to wait his turn to pummel their youngest brother, that is, once everyone was feeling better.

Nonetheless, he made his way deftly and successfully through the living room, avoiding the couch and other pieces of furniture as if the lights were on. Again, Don's knowledge of the arts assisted him,his keen and finely tunedsensesacting like his very own personal proximity alert.

Now, he stood at the front door to the lair and hesitantly stared at it, thinking to himself, "I wonder if there is indeed a black out and, if so, maybe I ought to get the others up, just in case the Foot decide to take advantage of the situation."

He looked back in the direction of his brothers' and sensei's bedrooms. He thought a bit, chewing the inside of his cheek in contemplation. He realized that maybe one or more of them might not be feeling too well. It was then when he decided that, if they were sleeping despite their discomfort, it would be cruel to wake them. Therefore, he made up his mine to just go take a quick look topside and assess the need, if any, for their intervention. "Why get them up if we're not needed," he reasoned logically.

However, just as soon as Don opened the door and stepped through the threshold and out into the sewer tunnel, he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. Then, he felt a bending and quivering of the air around him,the scant sewerlighting at that point in the tunnelshowing the concrete walls seeming to melt away. As they pooled into nothingness, without warning and right before Don's eyes, everything changed!

Now, instead of standing in the dank, dark, and very smelly recesses of the New York City sewer system, Don found himself outside in what appeared to him to be an ancient forest, almost prehistoric in nature. The shadows were deep where he was, with intermittent light from the sun far abive as it fought its way down through the thick leafy canopy of trees.

As Don looked up to assess how high the canopy hovered, he was quite surprised to findthat its gentle sway rose nearly three hundred feet above the forest floor. A warm, humid breeze swirled about him, almost thick and suffocating with the smell of decaying leaves and moist earth. It was a definite improvement to what he was feeling and smellingseconds earlier. However, he wrinkled his nose in question. Laced with a variety of other strange scents, the breeze seemed alien and almost overwhelming. He knew then that he was outside. But, where?

Just the same, the otherworldly scene around him caught Don's attention the most.

He quickly noticed the huge pine trees, or conifers. They were – _gigantic_, almost reminding Don of redwoods from northern California. That explained why the treetops were so high above him. Yet, here, where he was curretnly standing and in addition to the mammoth trees, he noted strange fern like vegetation growing in small and large clumps along the ground. For the life of him, he could not name them, yet they seemed vaguely familiar. Having thick, nubby trunks and branches that gyrated out in a strange dance of growth, the trees grew in-between the stately giants, dwarfed considerably by them, yet adding a bizarre texture to the otherwise strange scene. They were curiously unique, with clumps of leaves or fronds gathered at the farthest ends of each branch, like a cheerleader's pompom.

Smaller, similar growth crowded around the forest floor, possibly ferns, by what Don could tell. With a littering of browned pine needles and other dead leaves carpeting the earth, there seemed to be a quiet hush filling the air, as well, as if the groundcover acted like hoise insulation.

Suddenly, Don heard movement along the ground in front of him, giving him quite a start, and causing him to whip his bo-staff up defensively. Yet, he relaxed right away when he saw that it was only a few beetle-like insects crawling in and out of the decomposing leaves, soon scurryingout of sight. It was obvious his sudden appearance had startled them. However, what intrigued him mostwas their size. They were the biggest insects that he had ever seen, maybe six-inches long, and easily challenging what he had heard about Texas cockroaches and how large they could get.

He just hoped this variety didn't know how to fly!

Nevertheless, it all happened so fast that the only thing he could utter was "What the SHELL is THAT?"

Yet, before he could wrap even a single thought around what species they were, a loud whirring and buzzing noise came suddenly from above. Itseemed to be dive-bombing towards Don, which caused him to duck at the last moment. With his eyes wide in shock, he observerd as the biggest dragonfly he had ever seen whizzed by him, just missing the top of his head. What was more startling was the noise from its madly fluttering wings as they filled the otherwise quiet of the forest. It almost reminded him of a helicopter, but miniaturized. With the insect's double set of translucent appendages, it flew haphazardly, almost as if in a state of panic. Yet, it managed to keep its trajectory and stuck to one direction as it flew away from Don. With its iridescent green and blue wings glittering through the sporadic rays of light, which shot like needles through the dense shadow of forest, the dragonfly had a jewel-like quality.

Just the same, although the insect's flight pattern seemed erratic as it bobbed up and down, sideways, and then back up again, the dragonfly still managed to keep to its course. Nevertheless, flying further into the forest deep and away from Don, its frantic behavior almost seemed to suggest that it was in a race for its life.

As in answer to that consideration, Don's keen hearing detected a quickly advancing footfall, but it was unlike any footfall that he had ever heard. Instinctively and not taking time to wonder about it, he jumped behind a nearby clump of large, oversized ferns. With their tendrils of green frilly leaves thick and concealing and with his own similar coloring, he blended well in and among them.

Now, safe behind their protective fronds, Don watched with a combination of dumbstruck awe and wonder. There, trotting into his view was as a very large reptilian creature, its coloring of tans and dark blues a stark contrast against the brighter greens of the surrounding area. Along its back where the darker color resided, Don could see striping. Considering the intermittent and sporadic beams of sunlight that cut down through the forest canopy above, the pattern was typical for a creature living in such shadowy conditions. The stripes probably assisted its ability to hide from predators and help conceal him from his prey, as well. However, where the limbs, neck, and tail began, the more vibrant blue changed over to the earthier tones of tan.

Suddenly, the creature stopped. Now, it stood just short of where Don was hiding, maybe ten feet away. In fear, the turtle hunkered down some more, firmly clutching his bo-staff to his plastron, just in case he had to defend himself. However, Don made sure he could still observe the strange reptile. Consequently, he kept very still, barely breathing as he watched the spectacle before him, his mind working on overdrive.

What kind of creature was this? It was bad enough Don's entire world had changed the way it had, but to bear witness to such a beast; his logical mind just could not miss the opportunity to study it.

As the turtle tried to make sense of how any of this could be happening, the creature glanced left, and then right, sniffing the air and stretching its long graceful neck upwards. It seemed determined, as if searching for something. With a trim, delicate head and elongated beak, bearing large, expressive eyes, the reptile lifted its long snout skyward to the forest canopy above. Then, with small flaring nostrils working excitedly and with its mouth opened, showing off a fine set of very sharp teeth, it seemed to be 'tasting' the air. Don could hear it suck in and then blow out, its tongue working along the inside of its mouth as it deciphered the various scents he seemed to be picking up. The beast then snorted and shook its head, either not pleased or – maybe – confused.

Could it detect him, Don thought worriedly?

As he was pondering this concern, the turtle quickly assessed the over-grown reptile. The creature stood maybe a little taller than Don did, but from nose to tail was much longer by comparison, maybe even as long as twelve feet! Now, standing upright on long spindly legs obviously meant for speed, and with a lengthy tail for balance and that whipped around excitedly, the beast grunted once. It seemed to be considering its next move.

Watching its tail whip about and the excitement it showed in its behavior, reminded Don of an eager beagle. However, it was then that he suddenly remembered what the creature's species was. He had read about such dinosaurs when he was younger and now all of that knowledge came back to him in a blinding and almost frightening rush.

"A stenonychosaurus? Here, in New York?" he thought with nearly heart-stopping surprise. However, he quickly reminded himself that he was no longer in New York, not if what he was seeing was real.

Finally, catching wind of its pray once again, the creature squawked excitedly and took off with an amazing swiftness.Itagilely leaped over leafy obstacles in its path in pursuit of its prey – obviously, the dragonfly. In no time, it disappeared far from Don's viewand within the shroud of shadows created by the giant trees and ferns of the forest.

For now, Don knew he was safe.

Although the danger had passed, for the moment Don continued to stay where he was. He was completely stunned, completely and unequivocally petrified with shock. His mind was having the most difficult time accepting where he was. He knew that none of what he had seen so far should be happening, could be happening, and, yet, it was. Logical or not, Don knew that he was not in New York anymore, or, for that matter, in the year two-thousand and five.

Just the same, he suddenly realized that he had been holding his breath, almost in a state of panic, which was highly unlike him. After all, he was ninja. Splinter had trained him to be one with his environment.

The problem was - this was NOT his environment!

He gasped, then, as he sucked in air, reminding his lungs that, although the atmosphere was thick and heavy with humidity, it was still oxygen and breathable. As his breathing finallyevened out, he asked himself quietly, "Where the _shell_ am I?"

Don looked around, hoping to find the door to the lair and maybe get back to where he could immerse himself with familiar surroundings again. He wanted so desperately to be home. Unfortunately, it seemed as if the door and his lair had completely disappeared! Yet, he also noted that so went his nausea.

"Guess I can't have everything!" he lamented sourly.

With a sinking feeling, though, he realized then that he was now a stranger in a strange land. His instincts told him that if he was not careful, he could end up like that dragonfly was destined to be – somebody's lunch.

"I'd better watch my back a bit more," he wryly cautioned himself, "No telling if the 'steno' eats turtles, too."

At first, as he trudged through the forest, Don did mostly covert hiding. Running from tree to bush to tree, and waiting until he thought it safe to proceed to the next cover, Don kept himself as hidden as he could. Yet, he knew that he didn't have any idea where he was heading. All he wanted to do was to be was somewhere safe. Given the fact that a stenonychosaurus was present in this world, suggested that other creatures more fearful might be lurking in the area. Don didn't even want to begin thinking about that possibility.

As it was, whenever he would advance his location, he would look around furtively, making sure that there weren't any predators hiding in the brush to snap him up for their next snack. Then, he'd hunch over and run like a 'bat out of hell', nearly throwing himself into the bushes and rolling to a stop – and trying not to have a heart attack at the same time. After a while and as he became convinced that the forest wasn't as populated with large, ravenous beasties as he had first feared, he allowed himself a bit more freedom to relax. As a result, he did not run as much, giving himself time to evaluate his environment a bit more as he walked. Although he continued to seek a safe place to hide, he was rather intrigued with his predictament. After all, he did have a slightly inquisitive, if not scientific, mind. It would be unlike him to not anaylize what he was experiencing. Consequently and always keeping the safety of a bush within leaping distance, he began to assess his general vicinity more thoroughly.

"Based on the obvious prehistoric nature of the trees and foliage and considering the size of that dragonfly and the stenonychosaurus, all of this - should be extinct," Don deadpanned quietly, realizing the absurdity of his thinking based on his surroundings. Then,continuing his monologue, "Nevertheless, if I'm not mistaken, I would say I was in…"

However, before Don could utter his assumptions, he felt a rather strong vibration rumble along the ground.

"What – is – that?" he wondered fearfully. Instantly, he leaped into another bush and crouched within the shrouded safety of the fronds. Knowing when and where he believed he was in time, Don's eyes widened with anxious anticipation. He looked to hileft and then right – and finally above him – but failed to see what had made the earth tremble as it did.

However, what did catch his attention was a larger assembly of light seeping through the forest of trees not more than a hundred yards from where he huddled. The more he studied it, the more he realized that an open area probably lay just beyond where the trees were. Curious, Don carefully walked the distance, keeping low and sticking to the shadows of the heavy brush whenever he could. He continually looked all around him, mindful of the fact that anything could be lurking about, and well hidden within the shadows. It was never far from his mind the possibility of becoming someone's lunch – or dinner, not that any creature from this particular era would have given thought to what part of the day it was, so long as they were eating.

The closer he walked to the edge of the forest, the louder and stronger the vibrations became. Slower now, Don eased his way up to the very last tree before the expansivemeadow began. He swallowed deeply, not at all certain he wanted to see what was causing the disturbance. After all, if he was correct in his assumptions, some very scary and very large monsters might be looming beyond.

"Other than my stealth capabilities, no amount of ninjitsu or my knowledge of technology will work here," he moaned despairingly.

Finally, after taking a deep breath, Don could not deny his curiosity anymore and, so, he chanced a look. As he peered around the ancient redwood tree, which was about as wide as a city school bus, he took in the scene before him.

Now, he was certain where and when he was. How it could be so,was beyond his ability to fathom and for Don that was quite a lot.

Yet, there they were and in a meadow so large, that it must have spanned hundreds of acres, if not more! Within the safety of the gianttrees, Don could only stand there in total and utter amazement as he looked out across the grassy expanse. He smiled. For in herds of fifteen to fifty and far enough away to be more entertaining than a threat to him, he gazed in near disbelief at the menagerie of dinosaurs, dinosaurs that were very much alive and more real than he could ever imagine.

There were maiasauras, triceratops, and anatosaurus, as well as other much larger and smaller creatures. They were all foraging through the meadow as they munched at the foliage, some ripping huge mouthfuls of grass from the ground as big as bales of hay.

Don was completely mesmerized. "How could this be?" was an exclamation that kept repeating itself inside his logical mind. He knew that these animals – or dinosaurs – had been extinct for at least sixty-five million years. He also knew that it was as impossible for him to be where he was, andin the same way that it was impossible for these creatures to be alive.

Yet, his eyes and ears told him differently, despite his mind's insistence that it was inconceivable. He could hear them trumpet and bellow, as they called out to their herd-mates. He could see their coloring and the way that their muscles moved under their thick scaly skin. Some had very smooth epidermis while others seemed to be rougher by comparison. There were babies and juveniles, as well as older more mature versions. Every species he observed seemed to be thriving and for a second, Don wondered about predators.

However, as the ground quaked again with some of the beasts ambling about on their ponderous legs, his attention diverted back to the wondrous behemoths. Now, some were whipping their tails around. A few slammed their long appendagesto the ground in a manner that might have been a form of communication, or maybe it was part of a mating ritual. With the younglings gamboling around, it was quite possible a few males were indicating either their territory or attempting to impress a female.

Either way, Don realized it had been the dinosaurs in the meadow that made the concussion from earlier. Considering how far they were from him, he was quite impressed with their power.

Nevertheless, the science-minded turtle's intrigue grew by the moment and, because of that, he forgot to keep himself hidden. Slowly drawn to the amazing spectacle before him, he forgot about his fear and of his previous concerns for predators. He now, absentmindedly, ventured beyond the safety and concealment of the dense forest and into the meadow.

Standing clear of the massive overgrowth and well into the field, with the warmth of the sun's rays now upon him, Don surveyed the almost surreal scene – and smiled again.

"This is positively the most awesome thing I've ever seen," he crowed, "I mean, this is just like Jurassic Park, only, based on what I can tell with the species here, it's more like the Cretaceous period." He giggled a little, truly forgetting where and what he was for the moment. "Man, Mikey will be so envious of me, that is, if I ever get back home to tell him." Don continued to gawk, assessing, and making a mental note of all the creatures that he could identify. He wanted to make sure that if he did return to New York and his family, he would be able to recall everything he saw.

He stood that way in the meadow for the longest time, longer than he really should have, in fact. He really didn't know how much time had passed, but it was long enough to warrant his being noticed, long enough for someone to see him.

The 'someone' who saw him was quite large. The 'someone' stood very tall and walked upright on two long and muscular them and leading up to its full height, wasa pair of smallish, two-fingered arms with a huge head filled with huge, gleaming, and very sharp teeth.

In fact, the 'someone' quickly became one of three. They were of varying heights and it was safe to assume that quite possibly, they were a family unit, but that was the only 'safe' part about it.

In one moment, Don realized thathe had made a very, very grave mistake. He realized then that the other dinosaurs' tail thumping might have been a warning signal,instead of what he had first thought it was. He had wondered earlier about predators. As if in answer to that thought, the biggest of the trio of Tyrannosaurus Rex roared very loudly, jerking Don out of his mesmerized state of mind.

The poor turtle whipped around in instant fright and would have peed his pants, had he been wearing any, but he wasn't. He just peed - and he ran, back into the forest. He ran as fast as he could with the trio of 'teeth' in close pursuit. Because he had wet himself, he only added more scent to the chase for the dinosaurs to follow. He tried to run and hide behind the huge trees but found them of little use to him, considering that the carnivores chasing him were of comparative size. There wasn't any way for the ferns, both large and small, to be of any help either.

The only thing he could do was to run - and run he did.

The ground trembled even more, now, as the three Rex's gave chase, their long strides crashing to the earth with shattering and increasing velocity. As they barged through the forest and felling smaller trees,crushing brushy ferns, the micro quakes they created with each thundrous step they took, almost upended Don as he ran. Keeping his balance, though, he dodged in and around trees, over brush and sometimes through them. He ran faster than he ever had, hoping to find a crevasse in one of the giant conifers to crawl into, one that would keep him safe from the 'teeth' that pursued him. However, no such luck presented itself and, so, he continued to run, thinking about the movie he thought of earlier, and wishing he could find a waterfall with a cave behind it to run into.

"As if such a thing were possible here," he whined as he ran.

Don looked behind him and saw that no matter where he went or how hard he tried to out-maneuver them, one of the monsters found him out and pushed the chase onward. If he did stray off the intended course, whichever beast was closest to him would get Don back in line again, almost as if it was herding him along. This action drew the attention of the other two and then they would bookend the chase with the same mind-set. Regardless if he wanted to dart left or right, there was always one of the Tyrannosaurus Rex's there to coax him back.

They almost reminded him of the way wolves would hunt. "So much for the belief they scavenged for food!" he complained irritably.

And, like wolves, they were relentless. Don realized, though, that more than likely, they were a bit curious about him as well. Considering he was bi-pedal and stranger than anything that they had probably seen before, it was a logical conclusion.

Just the same, Don was not going to hang around and try to explain himself to them, no sirree. He was far too smart for that – and scared beyond reasoning.

Unfortunately, he had completely forgotten about the stenonychosaurus. As luck would have it, he soon found himself in a race with the creature.

The smaller, leggier, dinosaur had been innocently enjoying his freshly caught dragonfly entrée, and was almost finished with it when Don and his 'friends' chanced upon him. Without any formal introductions, the ninja found that, aside from running for his life, he now had to dodge the startled and quite frightened species of saurischia. With a protesting and then frightened squawk as he saw the other carnivores, the creature joined the footrace with Don. For a moment, it took notice of him, snapping at Don as if trying to grab a bite on the run. Either that or he was royally ticked-off for having his meal interrupted. Whatever the reason, Don decided to keep his distance from the creature as much as he could, while trying to do the same with the giants that were currently chasinghim.

As if realizing that the stenonychosaurus would make a better meal, one of the Rex's roared in expectation. It quelled any interest the stenonychosaurus might have had in Don and, so, it began to sprint just a little ahead of him with its long, speed-friendly legs.

Why he was not running faster gave Don a bit of a pause. Maybe the creature had spent what energies he used in catching the dragonfly. Yet, something about the way the creature kept eyeinghim as they ran, told Don that, if anything, there was another concern he should be more worried about. If the trio of Tyrannosaurus Rex should quit the race, would Don have to contend, then, with Mr. Snapper? It was that sudden thought when Don realized why the 'steno' was not trying to out-distance him but to tag along. It was obvious the creature would try totake advantage of the situation. Don doubted very much his compatriot in 'fleeing for one's life' would miss the opportunity for turtle on a half shell.

Suddenly,with a sinking feeling, Don discovered another important realization. Either he had evidently dropped his bo-staff or in the rush through the trees, had it knocked out of his hand. Either way, it was gone.

Now, he was defenseless!

Instantly, Don knew he had to think of something – and fast, because as he looked ahead of him, he realized the forest was starting to thin out again. He knew that once out in the open, there wouldn't be anywhere to hide. However, before he could think of anything and without warning, the stenonychosaurus made a sudden turn – right in front of Don! Obviously, he had decided that the turtle was not worth the risk and, more than likely, found the dense forest a bit safer than the wide-open spaces of the meadow ahead.

In a heart stopping moment, Don found himself trying to leap and twist around the creature in order to avoid slamming into it. As he did, though, the steno's tail whipped up as it compensated for its change in direction, keeping the still-running animal from toppling over. The long whip-like appendage did as designed by maintaining the dinosaur's balance and allowing him to keep running and successfully escaping to freedom.

However, at the same time, it upended Don completely.

With the tip of the steno's receding tail catching the poor turtle's foot and tripping him, Don found himself flying face-first to the forest floor and into the deep compost pile of dead, decaying leaves and pine needles. Because of how fast he had been running, though, the abrupt change in his trajectory caused Don to slide a ways over and through the slick, moist covering of rotting vegetation.

Unceremoniously, he came to an abrupt stop at the base of one of the very large, overgrown redwoods. Although he was stunned but for a second, he quickly leaped up in sudden realization that he was no longer running. He then tried to scramble around the base of the tree to resume his escape.

However, the middle-sized Tyrannosaurus Rex blocked his route, glaring hungrily with yellow eyes at its prey.

Frantically, Don turned and tried to run in the opposite direction but found the largest of the three meat-eaters waiting there on that side of the conifer, as well. The smallest Rex, which was of little consolation to Don since even it was gigantic in and of itself, waited in the middle. Now,all three carnivores loudly gnashed their teeth at the turtle in hungry expectation.

Don found himself trapped! What was he to do, now?

Before he could think of anything, however, the trio of dinosaurs began a slow, methodical march in his direction. They quirked their head at him, as if in question, proving to Don that they were indeed curious about him. However, their drooling mouths with their razor sharp teeth made it even more apparent that, no matter how strange a meal looked, they would never pass one up.

Suddenly, the biggest one of the three threw back his head and roared in triumph, prompting the other two to make a sudden and blindingly quick dash towards their quarry.

With only a second left to his life, Don did what came naturally to anyone facing a horrific death.

He screamed.

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**_A/N_**_ – A second character death? Do you see any kind of death here, other than presumed? Until you know for certain, don't go flinging threats and insults or have a panic attack. All will be explained, eventually, although I think by now many of you have this figured out. _

_**COMMENTS **Thanks to all who read and reviewed.** RAMICA** – **LUNAR-NINJA** – **THE REAL CHEESE MONKEY** – **LIONESS-GODDESS** – **MIKAELA'S SPADE** – **CHIBI ROSE ANGEL** – **BUSLADY OF SOCAL** – **PACPHYS** – _**_SOMELLAMAFREAK._ Be blessed.**


	5. Its Only a Dream

**_DISCLAIMER_**_ – Ah, yes, what was to be the last chapter is now – the second to last chapter, with that last chapter the epilogue. I do want to give a nod to Chibi Rose Angel. I think you'll know why as you read about Splinter's ordeal! Tee hee. I seem to be having fun with a few 'other stories', although it was never my original intent to parallel mine with them. As things developed, I realized that there were some stories out there that mine might have reference to, so – courteously – I give nods to whomever either inspired me or had something similar to this one. _

_With that said, as it has been with countless times before, I don't own anything other than the inspiration for this story. So far, you all seem to be enjoying it. I've tried to keep up the momentum, but this one may not necessarily warrant the kind of responses I've received so far. Nevertheless, it is what it is, and nothing more. I hope I can tag it with a good epilogue, though, one that might garner a few 'wide eyed' and 'you have to be kidding' expressions! Bwahaha!_

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**Chapter 5 – It's Only a Dream **

Splinter definitely did not feel well, especially after the horrific dream he just had. Now awake, he was trying to dismiss the aftereffects of his nightmare. What bothered him was that, no matter how hard he had tried to manage the images in his mind, the visions continued to harass him. Usually he could manipulate his dream cycle whenever they began to go awry. He had learned long ago to control such visions, to rearrange the scenes or events whenever they became too disturbing.

Like the first time his sons went out on patrol.

He had had awful nightmares for the first few evenings following that monumental occasion. Even though they had come back unharmed and unchallenged - only because nothing had happened - until they had arrived back home, the rat had worried.

As it was, his subsequent dreams for the next few nights afterwards had been disturbing. He had dreamt of his sons' capture by government officials, and then another night it was the Foot, who dissected them and then sold their parts to laboratories and scientists. One dream had them on display in a zoo for the entire world to see, and then that dream morphing into a sideshow of feats and acrobatics to amuse the human masses. Although Splinter had trained them well and had imbued confidence in them, the rat knew that fate could oftentimes be cruel. It was this, in and of itself, which had invaded his subconscious and had given him the horrific dreams of haunting images.

Now, though, this latest nightmare, this phantasm, was quite honestly the most disturbing one of all.

Splinter had dreamt that he didn't have just four sons, he also had four daughters as well.

He shuddered with dread at the disturbing memory. He knew with certainty that had such a thing been real, more than likely, he probably _would_ have committed seppuku, just as he had done in his dream.

Nevertheless, even though the nightmare was long over, he still did not feel very well. The aftertaste of the late night pizza Mike had brought home was still fresh on his mind, or tongue – as it were. He decided right away that a cup of chamomile tea just might help his unsettled stomach.

"How anyone could think that bananas would make a good pizza topping – would have to be a chimpanzee!" he growled, "Especially when combined with the other awful selections."

Splinter then decided that, when his sons awoke, he was going to have a serious talk with Michelangelo; that is if the turtle lived long enough after the rat worked him in the dojo.

As the old master came out of his bedroom, still trying to rid his mind of the horrifically bad dream and looking forward to a cup of tea, screams suddenly filled the otherwise quiet hallway of the lair.

Splinter became instantly alarmed.

From Leonardo's room, the rat could hear mumbled yelling, as if his oldest was in the midst of either an argument or a shouting match. Just the same, he could easily hear what it was Leo was saying.

"NO, YOU CANNOT MEAN THAT; THAT CANNOT BE TRUE! NO!" Leo bellowed out angrily. Then, more softly and almost in grief, with his voice quaking with weeping emotion and then rising again in volume, "No, Raphael cannot be dead, my father IS alive; you are a LIAR, SAKI!"

Certain that one of two things had happened, Splinter did not waste a moment. Either his son was having a terrible nightmare or, and this was where the rat's heart nearly stopped, Saki – his old nemesis - was in the lair and had found his way into Leonardo's room.

Splinter wasted not a second and barged defensively into his oldest son's bedroom, nearly undoing the door from its hinges as he did. As the wooden barrier crashed against the concrete wall behind it, a resounding bang echoed noisily, announcing the arrival of the 'grand master of the sewers'.

Splinter looked quickly around; noting that, other than his son and himself, it was quite empty. Thankfully, Saki wasn't anywhere to be seen. However, the rat glanced over at the bed where Leonardo lay, and noticed his son tossing and turning in his sleep, as if fighting imaginary demons. It was indeed a nightmare and, for that, the rat was grateful.

Had it been Saki, things would have become quite messy, Splinter was sure of it.

Slowly, the rat eased over to his son's bedside, hesitating lest he worsened Leonardo's already active dream cycle. Yet, he was still anxious to help him, too.

Finally, as he laid a calming hand across the young turtle's forehead and sat down next to him on the mattress, Leonardo shouted out once again, "NOOO, you sadistic…" and then he suddenly quieted. It was almost as if someone had flipped the 'off ' switch to whatever Leo was dreaming about. In reality, however, his father had used a favorite acupressure technique along the turtle's brow. Splinter's bony fingers now massaged the area above his son's eyes, followed with caressing the ridge in-between. First, he went across the forehead and then down just above Leo's snout in the middle of his face, the rat's fingers working gently yet firmly. Then, back up again, and across the top of his forehead, repeating the process until – slowly – Leonardo woke up, his nightmare finally over.

As Leo's eyes opened and as he became more aware of his surroundings, Splinter eased back on his massage. "Are you all right, my son?" the rat asked worriedly, now cupping his hands on his robed lap.

Looking up at his sensei, his father, a sudden bright smile spread wide across the ninja's face, "You're – ALIVE!" he rejoiced happily, nearly crying out in joy.

Chuckling a bit, Splinter replied, "For now, my son."

Leo suddenly sat up and gave the rat an enormous hug as he flung his arms around his father, almost choking the wind out of him. It was quite an unusual gesture for him to give, having been years since the turtle had last shown such affection for his old master. Now in their early adult years, Leo and his brothers were more formal with their expressions where it concerned him. However, with all pretenses aside, Leonardo just couldn't help but embrace his sensei, now that he had put his worst fears to rest.

"Oh, God, Sensei," Leo nearly cried, his head buried into his father's furry chest, "I dreamt that you were dead, th - that Raph had…" Suddenly, he stopped, unwilling to repeat the rest of the dream to Splinter, where Saki had told of how Raphael had killed him. What would his father think?

Sensing a sudden shift in Leonardo's demeanor, the rat asked his son, "What did Raphael do, Leonardo?" He pulled away from the turtle's embrace to sit back and look at him, repeating his query, "Was there something that he did in your dream?"

Leonardo glanced once at Splinter. Then, from horror of what his nightmare entailed, he suddenly looked away, his eyes downcast as he replied, "Nothing, Sensei, it was just - just a dream." How could Leo tell his father that Raphael had killed him, even if it was just a bad dream? Yet, as he recalled the memory of Saki's grin, how 'real' it all seemed, and the casual way the man had behaved, the poor turtle couldn't help but tremble.

Easily sensing his son quaking body, Splinter knew, though, that he was greatly disturbed. The rat asked compassionately, "Leonardo, if it was just a dream, then telling me about it cannot harm me. What was it that Raphael did?" Splinter knew the answer from moments earlier, when Leo shouted out while he was still asleep, but the rat also knew the importance of sharing about it, too.

Gulping anxiously and with the lingering affects of his nightmare slowly dissipating, Leo replied, "I – dreamt that Saki had moved in with us and that - he had brought Raphael back to have him commit seppuku – after…" He looked up into his father's kind face and saw the expectant expression there. Leonardo really didn't want to tell him, but – he knew he had to be obedient, "After Raphael murdered you." He hung his head, now, ashamed that he would have dreamt such a dream and fearful that in some way, this would deeply hurt his beloved father.

As Splinter took his son's face in his hands, he turned it up towards him. Then, the rat smiled as he said to him, his voice soft and caring, "It is only a dream, and one induced by the pizza we ate last evening."

"But," Leo asked worriedly, "don't dreams have meaning, though?"

"Sometimes they do," Splinter replied, "It may be that my death and the death of one of your brothers is your greatest fear." Of course, Splinter had his own fears realized only moments earlier, so he understood how his son was feeling. "Yet, I know that you and your brothers love me and would protect me with your very lives – as I would protect you with mine. There is nothing to worry about or to be ashamed of, my son." The rat then smiled, "It was only a dream and nothing more."

Nodding and yet still somewhat traumatized, Leo swallowed, "I – I guess so, Sensei."

Splinter's whiskers twitched, recognizing the doubt in his son's voice, yet knowing that in time, the dream, or nightmare, would soon be a distant memory, "Hmm…yes, I am certain of it, but, regardless, I think it is time for you to get up. It's nearly six in the morning."

As the rat was leaving Leonardo's room, another anguished cry echoed through the corridors. Splinter rolled his eyes and knew that the pizza was evidently affecting everyone in similar fashion as it had with Leonardo and himself. Recognizing the voice, he rushed towards Michelangelo's room and quietly opened his door. There on the bed was the poor turtle, his arms and legs flailing around as if trying to ward off an attacker. His head thrashed wildly on his pillow with equal fervor as his voice filled the room, "PIZZA, I NEED MY PIZZA; I'll DIE without my PIZZA. You CAN'T ban the world's most _gnarly_ food."

If it were not for his own experience from their late night meal and with witnessing Leonardo's own personal torment, Splinter would have chuckled. As it was, he did not. Yet, he knew the only way to break the cycle of Mike's bad dream was to offer his youngest the same courtesy that he had given to Leonardo. After a few moments of having his forehead massaged, Michelangelo finally emerged from his nightmare, free from the shackles of his worse fear, and quite relieved to be home, in bed, and so very glad that there truly wasn't a ban on pizza.

As Leo eased into the room and leaned against the door jam, he heard Mike briefly tell their father about his horrible dream. Leonardo smiled a little as he listened to Mike's account of the banned pizza. He chuckled as Mike went on to tell how he had tried to stock up so he could sell the prohibited pie. As he thought about it, Leo realized that a ban on the popular food really would be Michelangelo's worse nightmare come true. Just the same, he had to agree that to live without the delectable pies would certainly crimp their eating style quite a bit. Nevertheless, he felt that he would have rather gone without such a delicacy for the rest of his life than to lose either his father or Raphael - or even to have Saki move in with them!

After Mike finished telling about his dream, how the authorities had caught him, and how he would have spent six months in jail for stockpiling his precious pies, Splinter sighed, stating, "It is all because of the choice of toppings you had on that pizza last night, Michelangelo. They were obviously not compatible with you, nor would it seem, with any of us." Then, as he informed him that it was time to get up, the wise old rat added as an afterthought, "And, Michelangelo, I am imposing a one week restriction on pizza, just to impress upon you the importance of choosing your toppings wisely – as well as giving the rest of us a chance to recover," he added dryly.

The rat could not help but smile, though, at the sound of his son's groans, with Mike exclaiming, "Great, I wake up from the most awful dream any pizza-loving turtle could have and what do I get, another nightmare!"

"If you would prefer, Michelangelo, you may do fifty back flips in the dojo instead." Splinter remarked, as he sternly raised one eyebrow.

Looking up in horror, Mike shook his head as he wrapped his arms around his middle and groaned, "Not with the way my tummy's feeling. I'll go without the pies, thank-you-very-much!"

No sooner had Splinter exited Mike's room than another scream pierced the air. It was Raphael, and as his voice echoed into the hallway, for some odd reason it sounded very different. As Splinter rushed to his aid, Leonardo and Mikey were quick to follow, their sense of curiosity and concern too great to ignore.

With all three easing through the doorway of Raph's bedroom, they could see him thrashing about, much as they had done earlier. They quickly realized that he, too, seemed to be having a nightmare. Just as Splinter had found his other two sons doing, Raph seemed to be talking in his sleep, as well, only there seemed to be something strange with the way he was talking.

"No, Moikey, please – don't go tell'n Leonawdo aboot my English awccent! Please, I'll put Splintah's teacup bahck, just the way I found it. Gah, Moikey, do ya hoff to gheo an' tell Donnie, teeoo. I thawt we were chums. WHY're ya tell'n them thaht I wawtched Pride and Prejudice? Why'd ya go an' tell'em I cried?"

With eyes as big as saucers and smiles growing wide across their snouts, Leo and Mike nearly collapsed in hysterics as they erupted into a fit of laughter. They doubled over as their mirth grew, but with one quick bark of "Quiet!" from Splinter, they ceased their merriment almost immediately.

Internally, though, they were completely losing it. As their eyes teared from their suppressed amusement, the two brothers literally had to grasp onto the door jam to keep from falling to the floor. A silent fit of laughter shook their bodies, their mouths gaping noiselessly in repressed hilarity.

After a moment of finding a chance to breathe again, though, Leo looked over at Mikey. Shaking his head and wearing the widest grin on his face, he chuckled as he looked over at his youngest brother, "Pride and Prejudice? Raph?"

"That would be a nightmare for him, you have to admit!" Mike guffawed a whispered reply, "But, what's with the accent, though?"

"I dunno," Leo admitted thoughtfully, "Maybe his greatest fear is losing his Brooklyn one? I mean, it's not like any of us talk like that anyway; he adopted it, remember?"

"Yeah, I do," Mike nodded, still smiling, yet finally gaining some control over his mirth, "He talked like the rest of us until he watched Taxi Driver with Robert DeNiro. After that, he started sounding like someone from Brooklyn."

"And, remember how we used to tease him about it at first?" Leo was starting to calm down now, a sudden thought coming to him, "And remember how Donnie said he would sound better if he talked with a British accent!"

"Ah, so that's where this is coming from; a repressed memory and fear." Mike sighed, "Sort of like mine." He then looked over at Leo and asked, "Say, did you have a nightmare?"

"Yeah, I did," Leo nodded slowly, "I – dreamt that Raph and Splinter died and that – well, that Saki came to live with us." Other than his father, he vowed never to tell anyone that Raph had killed Splinter. Leo would forever keep such a horrific thought from his brothers – or from anyone else for that matter.

Nevertheless, Mike's eyes grew quite large, now, his perspective just a bit different from earlier, "Wow, that is a bad dream. Makes mine seem trivial by comparison." Shaking his head, he muttered, "Guess that pizza last night wasn't such a good thing, eh?"

"No, Mikey," Leo agreed solemnly, "It wasn't, but it did show us what we fear most." Mikey nodded quietly and then turned to watch Splinter deal with Raphael.

The rat had walked over to Raph's bed and, as he did with his first two sons, laid a gentle but firm hand along his temperamental son's brow. Soon, Raphael woke up and, looking around to see that most of his family was present, asked, his Brooklyn accent completely recovered, "Wh-what's goin' on?"

"My son, you seemed to have had a nightmare," Splinter replied evenly, "and one that evidently included a movie and a cup of tea."

"A – cup of tea?" Raph nearly strangled on the words, the memory of his dream still quite fresh on his mind. "H – how'd you know 'bout that, Sensei?" he chanced a question, becoming quite concerned as he was completely aware, now, that two of his brothers were in his room.

"Well," Leonardo interrupted, adding a bit of a slant to his own words, "you seemed to be quite whauried about Moikey tell'n Leonawdo about it…."

"And tell'n Donnie-boy about you whatchin' Pride and Prejudice, too!" Mike interjected, breaking up into another round of guffaws and chuckles. "Oh, and CRY'n!"

"It WASN'T funny!" Raph bellowed, "It was downright the most scariest dream I've ever had!" he insisted.

"Well, be that as it may, Raphael," Splinter interjected quickly, "It was just a dream and only that. However, it is also time to get up. Practice will be in fifteen minutes."

Raph snorted contempt as he watched Leonardo and Mikey, the two brothers ushered out of his room as Splinter moved them along. Just before he eased them through the doorway, the rat glanced back at his reclining son with a compassionate smile. He had to admit that, yes, it was quite funny to hear Raphael speaking with an English accent and, although he knew it was just a dream, Splinter thought he had done a nice job with it nonetheless. Still, he also knew that his son's reputation had been tarnished just a little, the tough-turtle image now stained with visions of him holding a cup of tea between thumb and forefinger, with the third digit pointing upwards. Yes, he definitely provided them all with a rather amusing mental picture.

As it was with his first three sons, however, the fourth now called out, only it seemed to be a bit worse for him, like it had been for Leo.

"NO, I CAN'T DIE LIKE THIS! PLEASE, GOD, DON'T LET THEM EAT ME!"

Donatello's frantic voice resounded through the lair as his dream seemed to take on an epic proportion. Now, not only did Splinter, Leo, and Mike rush to his room, but Raphael, too. When he had heard his genius brother call out so desperately, the red-banded turtle leaped out of his bed in concern. As he joined up with the rest of his family in Donnie's room, he saw his brother thrashing around on his bed, his legs working frantically as if he were trying to run away.

"Good God, what's with him?" Raph exclaimed with his eyes wide and worried.

"It's the pizza we all had last night," Leo explained calmly.

"What? The pizza did this to us?" Raphael growled out, remembering all the strange toppings Mike had added to it. He then shot a withering glare over at his youngest brother.

With hands up in defense and backing further into Donnie's room and away from Raphael, Mike shook his head, "Hey, how was I t'know that would happen."

"You did this t'us?" Raph fumed angrily, stalking towards Mike with murder in his eyes.

"Hey, it wasn't my fault, okay? I had a nightmare, too. So did Splinter." Mike reasoned. Yet, he knew that Raphael wasn't going to be placated quite so easily, not until his big brother had the opportunity to pound him into the ground. However, he did have one saving grace, "Look, you beat me up, I'll puke all over you 'cause that's what I feel like doin' right now!" Mike then stood there defiantly and swallowed, making as if any moment he would spew what was left of his pizza right out in front of Raph.

Wisely, the other turtle gave Mike's comment serious consideration, stopping mere inches from his brother's mildly retching body. "You really feel like yer getting sick?" Raph asked him suspiciously. He raised one eye ridge in question, looking his brother over and reaching out with his senses.

Initially, Mike had faked it. Yes, he did feel rather ill, but not ill enough to lose his 'cookies.'

However, his phony retching seemed to have triggered a reaction, one that he was not expecting in the least. The moment Raph questioned Mike's sincerity, right then and there, Mike's stomach began doing a little dance, one that was soon to crescendo at any moment. With eyes wide and as he slapped a hand over his mouth, Michelangelo mumbled through his fingers as he raced out of Donnie's room, "I – I think I _am_ going to be sick!"

Grinning from ear to ear, Raph chuckled, "Serves 'em right!"

Leo couldn't help but join in with Raph, snickering a bit as he watched Mike charge into the bathroom across the hallway and then slammed the door closed behind him. Soon, the sound of retching came to their ears, causing the other two brothers in Donnie's room to shudder once in empathy and then disgust.

Nevertheless, Splinter, although busy waking Donatello from his nightmare, commented dryly, "Raphael, Leonardo, you will not take delight in your brother's torment, no matter what responsibility he may have with the pizza." He then glanced over to his sons and, with one look, ceased their merriment.

"Yes, Sensei," they both chorused.

Finally, Don woke up, blinking nervously as he sat up a bit and looked around his room. "I'm – awake? It was just a dream?" Realizing the truth of the matter, he collapsed back into his bed again, exclaiming in relief, "Oh, thank God! I thought for sure I was going to be someone's dinner."

"What kind of dream did you have?" Leonardo asked as he and Raphael stepped closer to the bed. Splinter sat on the edge of the mattress, equally as curious about Donatello's nightmare as his other two sons were.

"Well, it was actually a very interesting dream." Don began to explain, calm now, where he was finally awake and no longer surrounded by T-Rexes.

"Figures," Raph deadpanned, "Nightmare or not, leave it Don-san to find something interesting about it."

"Well," Donnie said defensively, "it was! I was transported back to the Cretaceous era!"

Both of his brothers gave him a blank expression.

"And – that's interesting because?" Raph asked dryly.

"Dinosaurs!" Don beamed, "I dreamt I went back in time to the reign of dinosaurs." He then looked around and asked almost in disappointment, "Hey, where's Mikey? He should be here to listen to this!"

"He's in the john, losing what's left of the pizza." Leo explained.

"Oh, well then," Donatello said, shrugging, "I guess I'll wait until he's done."

"Hey, you can tell him later, 'kay? He's th' one responsible for givin' us nightmares in th' first place," Raph exclaimed hotly.

"Raph," Donatello remarked with a roll of his eyes, "Mike wouldn't have done that deliberately. You know how he is about pizza toppings; anything that's different is fair game for eating."

"Well," Raph grouched, "he needs t'be more discernin', more careful about it."

Splinter suddenly interrupted them as he looked over at Donatello and then at Leonardo and Raphael, "Nevertheless, my sons, the nightmares were just dreams. But, we have practice in ten minutes, so as soon as Michelangelo can join us, we will begin. Please go on ahead."

The rat then stood up and walked towards the bedroom door, saying as he went, "However, I am going to check in on him, it may be that, if he is indeed ill, he will have to sit out of practice and rest." Glancing back over at Don as the turtle slipped out of bed and stood up to grab his elbow and knee pads, the rat added, "After practice, Donatello, you may then tell us about your interesting dream."

"Yeah, I wanna know who tried t'eat ya!" Raph grinned wickedly, slapping Donatello on the back good-naturedly.

A few minutes later, after Splinter checked on Mikey and found that he had sufficiently recovered, the two of them were walking through the hallway and towards the back part of the lair to meet up with the other three. However, Michelangelo seemed unusually quiet, which only piqued Splinter's concern.

"My son, you seem a might – distracted. Is there something bothering you?"

Sighing, Michelangelo replied, "Yeah, well, I feel so bad that my wonderful, narly pizza caused so much trouble. I mean, all of my brothers had a bad dream because of me." He then looked up at his sensei and asked, "Did you have a bad dream, Master?"

Nodding his head, the rat frowned a bit and said, "Yes, Michelangelo, I did, but do not blame yourself. How was anyone to know that the combination of toppings would have such an affect on us."

Mike nodded sheepishly and shrugged, still not up to par and still feeling rather badly about it all.

As they came into the sparing room, the rat had his head down, thinking about the incredibly large brood of ninja children he had dreamt of. He almost didn't hear Mikey as his son asked, "What was your nightmare about, Master?"

Splinter looked up at him and smiled wryly, "I dreamt about _many_ things, my son, but I am thankful that it was only a dream, I just couldn't imagine…" And then, as he looked over to see if his other sons were present and ready for practice, what met his horrified eyes were not three ninja turtles – but seven, with four of them obviously females. That is, if their garish colored masks were any proof! They all waved excitedly in his direction, giggling, and teasing each other. He heard some comment abouthow lucky it was that they had decided on eating salads the night before, rather than the 'awful' pizza.

In the next moment, the poor old rat could do nothing else but to faint dead away!

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**_A/N_**_ – Well, it does look as if I'll be doing a sixth chapter, or epilogue, after all. This one kept growing and growing and, as a result, I decided to break it up and make it separate from the ending. Just as well, too. I was getting impatient about uploading for y'all to read:0) Sorry for the simliarities to other stories, but - well - this would definitely warrant a 'bad dream' for our favorite mutant rat! Bwahahah!_

**_COMMENTS_**_ – Thanks to all for reading and reviewing. _**_LUNAR NINJA_**_ – _**_CHIBI ROSE ANGEL_**_ – _**_RAMICA_**_ – **PACPHYS** -_**_KELLIE FAY _**_– _**_LIONESS-GODDESS_**_ – _**_THE REAL CHEESE MONKEY_**_ – _**_DIERDRE_**_ – **REDWATERS.** Be blessed_


	6. All Things Considered

**_DISCLAIMER – _**_Once more and with emphasis, I do NOT own the TMNT's or any of their affiliates, or any stories that come to mind. I think I've run out of parodies and nods to other writers, though, not that it was ever my intent to do so when I began this fic. If a story comes to mind after reading this, however, you may make mention of it when you review. Whatever works is fine with me. Nevertheless, I had a different surreal ending that I may morph into a one-shot, or not, as it depends on my time factor. Right now, I have a house to clean. I tend to fixate on a story until it's done – if I can get it to that point – and my chores have had some serious neglect this past week and a half. _

_Enjoy._

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**Chapter 6 – All Things Considered.**

Splinter literally had to drag himself out of bed. As he stood next to it and as he stretched his arms above him, his bones creaked in protest, causing him to sigh in relief. After he brought his arms down and seemed satisfied that he had worked most of the major kinks out of them, he just stood there for a moment, trying to get his bearings. He had his eyes closed and his face impassive as he attempted to clear the cobwebs from his head.

Despite the fact that he was a ninjitsu master, he still hated mornings.

Especially mornings that followed bad dreams.

He next worked his tongue around, making soft smacking noises against the roof of his mouth to rid it of its thick coating of dried saliva. However, the lingering vestiges of flavors from Mike's strange pizza the night before all came back to him in a rush. He suddenly grimaced. Although he had brushed his teeth three times before going to bed, he could still taste the myriad of disgusting toppings in his mouth.

"Ugh, sauerkraut and pickles, what an awful combination."

He shook his head from the disturbing memory, and then opened his eyes. Seeing his robe lying across his nearby chair, he reached over to snatch it up. Slipping the garment on, Splinter next grabbed his walking cane and sighed, prepared, now, to meet the day. Turning and heading toward his bedroom door, when he reached it and as he grasped the knob, a sudden thought came to him. Pursing his lips and puffing his cheeks out in thought, the rat hoped that he was fully awake this time, and not still caught up in the nightmarish reality from which he had just woken up.

"By the gods, I better have only four sons. So help me if I don't, April will most certainly have a new roomie tonight."

Taking another deep breath, Splinter bravely opened the bedroom door and stepped out into the chill of thehallway beyond.

He stopped to listen, soon hearing snores emanating from the other nearby rooms. He smiled. So far, he could detect only four separate tones, with each tone belonging to one of his four sons. Not to rely on what he could easily detect, however, he sharpened his hearing a little more, his ears swiveling forward to catch the faintest of sounds. Smiling wider, Splinter was relieved to find that he was indeed the sensei of only four young warriors, and, considering their near baratone quality, thankfully, all males. Shaking his head and then chuckling quietly, he seemed almost amused with himself that something as simple as a dream would affect him so intensely. Then again, imagining being father and teacher to eight nearly trained ninja warriors, four of them female no less, would have given any grand master nightmares.

_"Ninja masters never die, they just fade way – without a trace!" _he lamented sourly under his breath. Satisfied that he was indeed awake, Splinter proceeded towards the living area and the kitchen, his mind focused on fixing himself a nice cup of hot, chamomile tea.

A while later, Splinter was languishing at the kitchen table with his cup of hot tea, enjoying the tick, tick, tick of the clock on the wall, the only sound to break the otherwise silence of the lair. He sipped at his partially cooled beverage and wondered if his sons had indeed experienced nightmares as he did.It was odd that he had dreamt about them having dreams, at least in their telling about them. Still, it would be truly bizarre if they did have them and if they were as he had imagined them to be.

He continued to sip and wonder, looking up at the clock and waiting, knowing that if his sons did not rise in the next few minutes, he would have to go and fetch them. Tired as he was himself, Splinter was a stickler for punctuality and schedules.

As the big hand on the clock reached the sixth hour, a door from the bedroom hallway creaked open. Slowly, a turtle emerged from the passageway. He shuffled slowly towards the kitchen and yawning a bit. Splinter smiled, it was Leonardo, always first of his sons to wake up.

As the turtle entered the kitchen, Leo looked over at his father. The young warrior's eyes squinted a bit from the overhead light. He was scratching himself along his left side under his arms, in the area between his plastron and his carapace.

"Did you sleep well, my son?" Splinter asked him cheerily. The rat could quickly tell that his oldest was not feeling as refreshed as he normally would be in the morning.

Answering his father's query, Leo mumbled, "Sort of…I guess," and then went over to the stove, asking in mid yawn as he popped open the teakettle's spout and looked inside, "Is the water still hot, Sensei?"

"It should be hot enough for a cup of tea, yes." Splinter replied, watching his oldest with great interest. He leaned back in his chair, taking another small swig of his drink as he did. Yes, he thought to himself, Leonardo did seem more tired than usual this morning.

Leo plucked a teabag from the tea container on the counter and, after procuring a mug from the upper cabinet, plopped in the bag. After pouring the hot water into the cup, he waited a few minutes for the tea to steep. All the while, he said not a word, but stood there as if transfixeda fingers of steam rose like wispy clouds from the container. When he thought the teabag had steeped enough, he removed the bag and quickly squeezed it free of excess water. Then, disposing it into the trash can, Leo then turned with cup in hand to join his father at the table and sat down in one of the chairs.

Slouching a bit and with his eyes closed, the turtle sipped gingerly at his tea, and hummed a little in pleasure. "Hmm…nothing like a cup of hot tea to start the morning, eh, Sensei?" he stated with a wry smile, looking over at his father with his eyes half closed.

"Yes, indeed, my son," came Splinter's reply, "nothing like it at all." He smiled then. He enjoyed this part of the day the most, where his sleepy-headed son had no more care in the world than to fix a cup of tea and then bask in its savory delights. If Splinter had his way, none of his children would have had the need for fighting – or killing. Peace was what the old rat truly yearned for and he would have preferred that heritage for them, rather than one of violence. Yet, unfortunately, the rat knew it was unavoidable, where their enemy still reigned supreme among the corrupt that lived topside. He sighed, letting go of the unattainable longings.

Soon, another of his sons found their way into the kitchen, this time it was Michelangelo. Splinter noted that he, too, seemed more tired that usual.

"Did you sleep well, Michelangelo?" the rat asked, noting the bloodshot eyes of his youngest and the sloppy way in which he walked.

"S'awright, Sensei," the turtle replied, slurring his words, as if talking in and of itself was too tiresome a chore.

"Hmm, is it, now?" Splinter was not convinced; there seemed to be a subtle undercurrent of exhaustion edging Mike's words, as well as Leo's from earlier. Still, his son said nothing further, going over to the counter as Leo had done only moments before.

However, instead of tea, Michelangelo fixed himself a cup of cocoa with marshmallows, using the somewhat warm water from the same teakettle. Soon, he joined Leo and Splinter at the kitchen table. Hunched over his drink, Mike, like his brother, savored it by sipping and humming pleasant sounds. He turned his head and gave Splinter a lazy smile, the turtle's mouth ringed with melted marshmallow and milky chocolate. The rat chuckled lightly at his youngest son's antics, realizing that, despite his twenty years, Mike still found opportunities for playfulness.

Before the master could comment to either them about their current state, however, he heard two more pairs of feet. Theyshuffled their way out of the bedroom area and crossed the living room to join those in the kitchen.

"Morn'n Raph," Don said as he paired up with his brother, walking next to him towards the kitchen with his voice thick with sleep.

"Back at ya," Raph replied and then yawned big, causing his newly awakened brother to do the same.

As they came into the kitchen, their father greeted them as he had the other two, "My sons, you look well rested this morning." Splinter knew otherwise, but he decided to attack this situation on the upside, rather than give either the opportunity to state differently.

Raph glanced over at his father, smirked once as if he alone held a delicious secret, but then sighed and only said, "Whatevah," before heading over to the counter and the upper cabinet where they kept their meager collection of mugs.

Don shrugged and answered honestly, "Not the best night for sleeping, Sensei, but I'll be fine."

Both Raph and Donnie made themselves a cup each of instant coffee, the kettle water not as hot as it was for Splinter's tea, but hot enough for two, obviously, very tired turtles and their need for caffeine.

For the longest time, only silence echoed in the kitchen as the five sat passively and soundlessly around the small, battered table. Then, clearing his throat, Splinter asked nonchalantly, "Would any of you be willing to tell me about your nightmares?" He obviously assumed they had had one, but it was an educated guess at best, yet one that he was quite certain was true.

"Wow," Mike exclaimed quietly, his eyes wide and, except to drinkhis cocoa,seemingly the only part of his body willing to move,"how'd you know that, sensei?" He took a casual sip of his drink, keeping his attention riveted on his father.

Chuckling, Splinter replied just before taking a sip of his beverage, "You have been my sons for most of your twenty plus years; it should not surprise you, then, that I would know these things." More often than not, Splinter usually guessed correctly about what was bothering them. Yet, as far as he would let his sons know and as far as they were concerned, he would let them believe he had such discernment. It was a powerful weapon for any parent to wield in raising children and one that he would never let slip from his grasp.

Yet, he had to admit to amazing even himself at times with his ability to sense things.

Leo hunkered down into his chair a little more, obviously not eager to be the first to share. Raph became intensely interested in his mug of coffee, quickly bringing the rim of the mug to his mouth and taking a long, sustained pull of the lukewarm brew. Don pursed his lips, a sudden look of discontent crossing his face as he considered his father's query.

Mike, however, huffed a bit and then volunteered himself. "Well, my dream had to be the worst one I've ever had."

"Really?" Splinter asked, "Why so?"

"Well," he looked over at his father and then at his brothers with a horrified expression, "I dreamt that Congress declared pizza illegal!" He went on to tell about his dream, his worst nightmare ever, garnering a few laughs along the way as he recounted his attempt in his dream to stockpile the pizza. When he came to the part where the SWAT and HAZMAT people raided the store and caught him, he received a sympathetic pat on his shell from Donnie, who sat next to him. "Man, all I could think about, though, was not having any pizza ever again!" Mike lamented. "It – was just horrible, just horrible." He sat there and sighed deeply, truly traumatized by his experience.

Throughout the telling, though, Splinter had sat there with one raised eyebrow. This was exactly the dream he had dreamt Michelangelo as having. Again, it truly amazed him when he did things like that, almost scaring the fur right off his back the way he could discern his sons the way that he did. Maybe the mutagen had tied their minds together, where the green goo had affected them at the same time, or, maybe it was the ninjitsu. It mattered not, though, where it had kept the rat a step or two ahead of them. Splinter then smiled inwardly, wondering if Raphael would share about his nightmare.

After Mike finished, Raph chuckled, "Leave it to you, Mikey, to have a nightmare about illegal pizza." He shook his head and smiled, sipping his coffee some more.

"Well, what about you, Raph, what was your nightmare about?" the orange-banded turtle asked, squaring his shoulders as if challenging him.

"Who said I had one," Raph shot back, glaring at Mike, as he banged his nearly empty mug against the kitchen table. The action caused the others to startle a bit, but it also caused one of them to smirk.

"The simple reason that you're questioning him – and getting defensive," Leo offered smugly, his smile growing along his face.

"Leo, stay out of it, 'kay?" Raph declared hotly, "It's none of yer biz'ness what I dreamt about."

"Ooo…I think Raph had one of THOSE dreams!" Mike snickered, clasping a hand over his mouth as he did so and receiving understanding nods and giggles from his other brothers.

With eyes glaring at the implied meaning behind Mike's words, "I did NOT have one of THOSE dreams, Mikey, so get yer head outta the gutter," Raph bellowed, his next words rushing out as he defended himself, and maybe a bit too quickly, as it turned out, "I dreamt I had an English accent, okay?" Immediately, Raph knew he had said too much. Especially when total bedlam erupted around the table as his three brothers broke into a round of laughter.

"An English accent? You dreamt you had an English accent? That was your – nightmare?" Mike chortled, "Oh, man, that would have been something to hear," as he nearly rolled out of his chair, chuckling and snickering.

"What else did you dream about, Raph," Leo laughted, "did you drink tea,or, or…" but Don interrupted him.

"Or perhanps you had some scones and lemon curd?"

"Hey," Mike perked up between giggles, "Maybe – he read...Pride and Prejudice, too!"

Raph's temper was cut short and replaced with amazement, "Why would'ya even think that, Mike? Did –did I talk in my _sleep_?"

Realizing the truth of the matter, another eruption of giggles exploded around the table. Now, three turtles tried their best to keep to their chairs and not fall onto the floor in a laughing fit.

"You read Pride and Prejudice – in your dream?" Leo asked, chuckling almost uncontrollably. Tears rolled unabated down his face as he laughed, truly amused.

Knowing it was a lost cause, Raph shrugged in defeat and quietly said, despair replacing his anger as he sighed, "No, Leo…I watched the movie, it seems."

Mike now had his head buried in his arms, his shell quaking as he sniggered, "Oh, goodness, I guess for you that would be bad." He looked up and saw the reddening of his brother's face, and remarked with a grin, "I suppose that is a pretty bad nightmare." He smiled wider, certainly entertained with his brother's dream.

"Okay," Raph snorted, turning his head around to face his oldest brother, "Leo, what'd you dream about?"

Splinter had sat there, stunned to silence with Raphael's accounting. He kept his expression flat, though, realizing that he had evidently tapped into his sons' nightmares and knowing, now, what Leo had dreamt about. Hecleared his throat and said, "It is not necessary for all of us to hear what the other dreamt. Maybe some of it is too personal and, thereby, unqualified for sharing." He took a sip from his cup and waited.

"No, Sensei," Leo challenged respectfully, "If Raph and Mike shared, it's only fair that I do, too."

Sighing in acceptance, the rat then remarked, "Very well, then, Leonardo, but I must impress upon all of you that dreams or nightmares are nothing more than fears and events manifested through our imagination. They rarely come true and are rarely the source or products for real life events yet to be."

All four turtles nodded in agreement with their father and then three of them turned their attention to their oldest brother. Leo swallowed a bit and sighed before beginning, "First, I dreamt that – Saki was in our training room working out." A notable gasp of disbelief and surprise whispered around the table, with Leo continuing, "And then I found out that he was living here…after…" he looked up at his father and then at Raph, wondering if he ought to say anything more. Quickly, he decided to augment his nightmare a bit, "I dreamt that Raph and Splinter both – died, and that - Saki had made peace with us, and that's why he was living here."

A noticeable bit of silence fell over the five figures, a deafening quiet coming over them like a suffocating blanket. Finally, Mike spoke first, almost in awe, "Dude, that was some nightmare, all right." He then looked at Raph and saw a visible amount of sobriety cross his brother's face. It was obvious thatLeo dreaming that Rapphael had died affected the red-banded turtle more than he would probably admit. "And, Raph died? How?" Mike asked. The same three pairs of eyes riveted back onto Leo's face again, waiting for his response. Splinter sipped at his tea and listened curiously.

Leo sighed again, yet determined not to share about why his brother had died in his dreams, "He, died with honor – in battle – after Splinter did." He looked over at his father. His eyes glistening with repressed tears as the telling of the dream brought back to him his nightmarish grief once more.

Splinter reached over and, with his paw, graced the back of his son's head with a kind stroke, saying, "As I said, my son, dreams are not the foretelling of things to come, they are just our fears manifested - nothing more."

"Yes, I know, Father, but –" Leo looked down into his empty mug, his expression full of remorse, "It all seemed so real to me. Everything did."

"I'm certain it did, Leonardo, but it is quite apparent that losing me, Raphael, or any of your brothers would affect you deeply. If anything," the rat looked up at his more temperamental son and then at the other two, "you have shown great love and dedication to your family." Splinter then glanced back at Leo and advised, "Maybe this knowledge will allow them to see you as I do – someone who would do anything to keep us safe and free from danger."

A subtle calm fell over the group in the kitchen, a somber mood entrenching them further into their seats as they sat around the table. Then, remembering Donatello, Raph chirped, "Hey, Donnie-boy, did ya have a nightmare, too?"

Perking up a bit and with a new focus to take their minds off Leo's dismal dream, three turtles faced the last one who had yet to share. Splinter smiled, knowing what Donatello had dreamed about, even though in his own dream his genius son had yet to say. Why he knew, Splinter did not know; he just did. One would think that, if he 'heard' in his dream his other son's accounts of _their_ dream, but had not heard Donatello's yet, it would make sense that he would be ignorant of such information. Yet, knew he did and he knew that out of all of his sons, Don's nightmare would provide a bit of interest and sway their troubled minds away from Leonardo's depressing phantasm.

"Well, I dreamt that I had gone back in time, to the age of dinosaurs!" Donatello began and then continued with his long-winded account of everything that happened. He shared details about the forest, the air, the smells, and describing with great clarity the dinosaurs that roamed the area. As he spoke, Mike's attention wrapped solidly around the idea, giving occasional gasps and smiles throughout Don's account of his dream. He was truly mesmerized with the story.

When Don came to the part where the T-Rex's were going in for the kill, where he thought he was truly going to die, he said, "And then, almost as if by magic – and you know that I don't believe in such things – a door appeared in the tree. You can bet I didn't waste a precious second. I had the door opened and I shot through it so fast, I almost passed out from the sheer terror of what I left behind."

Splinter's ears swiveled forward a bit, his whiskers twitching in curiosity, since this was something he did not remember. He was certain in his dream that the dinosaurs had eaten Don. There hadn't been anything about a door, other thanwhen Don attempted to go topside to find out why the electricity had gone out.

"And then what happened?" Mike asked in awe, totally taken in by Don's dinosaur tale.

"I – woke up in my bed." Don said and then took a sip of coffee from his mug. He seemed rather pleased with his storytelling, at least as far as Mikey was concerned.

Splinter pursed his lips and realized that maybe not all things were for his knowledge. After all, the crux of Donatello's story was about dinosaurs. The fact that the loss of technology would be one of his son's greatest fears seemed to be the underlining meaning. It also made sense that Don would 'imagine' a door materializing in the tree for him, in order to escape such a world. It was a technique that Splinter, himself, had used on more than one occasion to get 'free' of such disturbing nightmares.

Except for the most recent one, that is.

"Well," Raph declared, "I have to say that gettin' eat'n by dinos would be a nightmare. Guess when ya sum it all up, we all sort'a had our worst fears realized, eh?"

The remaining three turtles nodded in supportive agreement, with one rat remaining stoic and non-responsive. As the four brothers sat there and pondered each other's personal nightmares, it occurred to one that their father seemed to have escaped such a horrific experience.

"Sensei?" Mike asked solemnly, "D-did you have any bad dreams?"

The rat sat there for a long moment, debating about whether or not to share. He knew that he had dreamt about how his brood had doubled in size with four daughters, only to 'wake-up' to yet another dream and finding that same number and gender of turtles in the dojo. In the first nightmare, however, he had tried to commit seppuku. In the second one, he had only passed out. Yet, he knew they were, in actuality, only dreams. Still, he did not want to worry his sons about such topics as his 'self-inflicted death'; imagined or not.

Finally, after a long, pregnant moment of contemplation, Splinter replied softly, "Yes, I did."

"What – was it about?" Raphael asked eagerly, his other three brothers as interested with their father's reply.

"It was...nothing my sons; simply a fear that I have since dismissed," came Splinter's simple answer.

"But," Leo asked, "was it scary?"

"Was it terrifying?" Don asked next.

"We're – you scared?" Mike wondered aloud.

"Hey, maybe he had one of THOSE dreams," Raph snickered, but as Splinter shot a warning look at him, the turtle realized he had, again, spoken too soon. He lowered his gaze and mumbled, "Sorry, Sensei, wasn't thinking."

"Indeed not!" was the rat's stern reply.

Composing himself once again to serenity, Splinter sat there and saw the expectant expressions on his sons' faces. He silently recalled their telling of their nightmares and the sense of foreboding and fear that each one of them faced within their dream-cycle. Although the thought of having four daughters in addition to four sons nearly made him 'weak in the knees', wisely, the old rat replied instead, as a smile creased his face, "All things considered, my sons…compared to what each of you had to suffer with yours…,mine could have been worse."

Then, as his four sons realized their father wasn't going to tell them, they pushed away from the table and stood up. "Now, my sons," Splinter commanded, "It is time for your morning katas. Everyone in the dojo."

As all four groaned a bit, yet resigned to the inevitable, Leo lead the way out of the kitchen with Raphael following closely behind. Mike strode beside Donnie, saying, "Hey, except for that 'getting chased' part, I think you had the most intersting dream!"

Nodding his head, Don had to agree, "Yes, I think so. It all seemed so real, too. I mean, I can still 'smell' that forest and the heat from the T-Rex's breath! It was - just amazing." He chuckled then as the foursome walked towards their training room, "The mind is a powerful thing, Mikey. It's just fantastic what it can conjure up!" As the confines of the hallway narrowed,the purple-banded turtle eased in front of his brother, all of them walking in single file,now, as they marched towards the dojo.

As Don walked on ahead of him, Mike continued to think about his brother's amazing dream. As he did, he looked up at his brother. It was then that he almost did a double take. As Don tried to scratch along the area between the back of his neck and the underside of his carapace,sticking out from underneath like an errant feather from a bird's wing,Mike spied something odd. Only because it was so close in color to Don's did he not notice it from earlier. Now, as his brother walked, his movement caused the thing to wiggle a bit, making it's presence more noticable. Mike watched in fascinationand studied it.Thelonger he did,the more his heart beat as he realizedthat it was horrifically out of place.

As his heart rate- and his intrigue - picked up pace, Mike's quavering voice echoed within the concrete hallway, "Er...ah...Donnie, what exactly did those ferny things look like?"

Glad to share such intricate information with his little brother, Don smiled and replied eagerly, his voice smug with confidence, "Well, Mikey, the leaves are tiny, giving a sort of a lacey look to them along their branches, they're very delicate, unlike regular leaves."

"Ah huh..." Mike mused. "Well, bro," he quirked his head, "I don't know about that dream of yours, but - ah - some of it woke up with you."

The End.

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**_COMMENTS_**_ – I chanaged the ending a bit from what it was originally. Just did this as of 9/6/06. This is the ending I wanted, sort of gives the thought - did they really have dreams, were they really awake in this chapter, or did only one of them have a true experiece? Yeah, love thosetwilighty zoney endings._

**_Anyway, much appreciation to all who read and reviewed. SASSYBLONDEXOXO_**_ – _**_RELUCTANT DRAGON_**_ – _**_AMBERLI RAVEN_**_ – _**_CHIBI ROSE ANGEL_**_ – _**_RAMICA_**_ – _**_THE REAL CHEESE MONKEY_**_ – _**_DIERDRE_**_ – _**_PACPHYS_**_ – _**_LUNAR-NINJA _**_– _**_MIKAELA'S SPADE_**_ – _


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